The line of the healer
by Jacquera
Summary: Ayla's line from her time, right up to now, what will her descendant be like? Please review.
1. Ayla, 26,000BC

"Zelendoni, quickly" Ayla shouted dragging the injured man

"Zelendoni, quickly" Ayla shouted dragging the injured man. She had found him at the bottom of the cliff, his arm mangled beneath his and his leg bent in a funny angle, there was blood coming out of his nose and a massive bump on his forehead. She knew that if the man didn't get healing treatment soon, he would probably die, or loose the use of his arm and more importantly his leg. She wouldn't allow that, this man would live. "Zelendonii" she said reaching the holy woman's hearth, "we have work to do."

--

"I wonder who he is?" Ayla mused, as she cut off his clothes needing to see if he had any injuries that hadn't been immediately obvious.

"I don't recognise him" the holy woman responded, putting hot stones into a skin of water.

"His face looks unusual" commented Ayla, pulling his eyelids open to look at the pupils of his eyes.

"He is probably a visitor" the holy woman glanced at his bruised face, "it is difficult to say what people he comes from his face is swollen so much."

"He doesn't look like any of the people Jondalar and I met on our way here, and I agree he isn't a Zelendonii either." Examination over, Ayla started to plan, opening up her otter skin bag she spent long moments staring at its contents as thoughts cogitated within her mind.

"I want to make a henbane tea" she decided, speaking out loud, it is a very strong pain killer, but for now we need him to feel as little pain as possible."

"Are you sure" Zelendoni queried, "henbane can be dangerous."

Ayla nodded, "I know it can, but if we are careful and only use a small amount, then it should help keep him out of pain while we treat him."

Zelendoni laid a wooden bowl out, and poured the hot water into it, watching as Ayla measured out a small amount of the dangerous substance and added it to steep and cool.

"What about the head wound?" she asked, looking expectantly at the medicine woman.

"I think that a chamomile wash would be best to clean his wounds, it is mild and will not make them hurt more."

"What about his head wound?" Zelendoni tested her. We need to stop the blood."

Ayla thought for a moment, "I would like to make an iris wash; it will draw out any poison in the wound and help it to mend."

"And we will use plantain**leaves to cover****the head wound**, secured with a rabbit's skin" the holy woman added to Ayla's agreement.

They quickly got to work, and soon the strangers head was bandaged.

"Now onto the more difficult job" remarked Ayla, we have to reset his arm and leg." She started to timidly feel the man's misshapen limbs, "he had one bone broken in his leg, we will need to pull it back into its socket, but his arm is a different matter, many of the delicate bones are shattered in his arm wrist along with a big one in his arm."

"Do you think we will have to amputate?"

"Maybe" Ayla admitted, but the mother has ways of healing us, when our medicinal skills fall short."

They started on the leg; Zelendoni gripped the hip of the man while Ayla held the foot, manipulating the bone onto it clicked into position. Ayla swiftly spread the ooze from chopped peeled alfalfa roots on the leg, followed by a pulped willow bark that when dried would form a cast to protect the bone until it was healed.

The bone in the arm proved to need little manoeuvring and the wrist bones though shattered seemed to be in approximately the right place, so the two healers decided that they would hope for the best, and also covered it in the alfalfa ooze, and a willow bark cast.

Lastly, they got to work on his many bruises and cuts, Zelendoni had already steeps agrimony's leaves in hot water, and the two women tenderly washed him.

"That is all we can do for now" yawned Ayla realising it was late. "We will have to wait and see how he is tomorrow."

Zelendoni nodded her head in agreement, "Ayla you should get to your furs, you need your rest, not just for you but for the baby you are carrying."

Ayla grinned "I wonder if it will be a boy or girl" she pondered, smiling at the holy woman she continued "it doesn't really matter, just as though as it is healthy and Jonayla is so excited to be getting a sibling at long last."

--

The next morning Ayla quickly brewed herself a nausea relieving tea when she had woken up, and then hurried over to Zelendoni's hearth to check on the man.

"How is he?" she asked the tired looking holy woman.

"He is in a lot of pain, and I think he might be getting a fever" Zelendoni told her. "Should we make him some more henbane tea?"

Ayla shook her head, "no I only used that because we had to set his leg and arm, I think a willow tea would be much more beneficial to him now, it is mild but good enough to dull the pain, it will also help to bring his fever down.

"I was thinking about giving him some boneset syrup for that" Zelendoni told her, picking up a container.

"Yes, I think boneset would be a good idea as well, it would help him to sweat out the fever" she agreed, "mix it with honey and water, and get him to drink some, I will make some willow tea."

After the man had drunk his medicines and had his head wound looked at, he fell into an untroubled sleep.

--

As she walked back to her shelter, she heard Folara calling her and hurried over to see Jondalar's sister.

"Are you alright Folara?" Ayla asked when she saw her strained face.

"Yes" Folara replied, though her eyes were brimming with tears, "it is just, it is my moon time, and my stomach hurts."

Ayla nodded, and looked down kindly at the young girl, "would you like me to make you some tea to ease the pain?" she asked.

Folara's face broke out in a grin, "would you Ayla. Thank you Ayla."

Ayla hurried off to her hearth, and soon came back with a couple of small packages, taking some of the herb out of each; she sprinkles them into a bowl and poured the hot water that Folara had already been heating. She gave the one of the parcels to Folara, "this is crushed pasque flowers**, ****it helps to take away**women's cramps." She gave Folara the other parcels, "this is powdered hops, it will calm you and help you to rest." She picked up the cooled bowl, "now drink up" she instructed the young woman, "and get some sleep."

It was a way of life for Ayla, the needs of her patients came before her own needs. Many a time Jondalar had to insist she slowed down and ate; especially now she was having another baby.

And they came, her patients wanting her advice and skills, they came with colds and coughs, sore backs and throbbing headaches, cuts, bruises and scraps. They came and Ayla dispensed her medicines and used her skills to make these people healthy again.

And sometimes they came back and thanked her.

--

The next time Ayla went to see the man, he was awake. "How are you feeling?" she asked, feeling his head.

"Better" he said, with a cracked voice, "can I have some water?"

Ayla quickly poured some into a cup, and helped him to sit up, so he could drink it.

His thirst sated, he frowned when he looked at his surroundings, "where am I?" he asked, "what happened to me?"

"You are in the ninth cave of the Zelendonii she told him, "I found you at the bottom of a cliff, you looked like you had fallen some way."

The man's eyes grew with fright, "I remember, I was trying to get to some wild berries, they were on a ledge, but there was a loose stone, and I slipped."

"You are fortunate that you are still alive" Ayla commented.

The man nodded, and then remembering his pain, he enquired "what's the damage?"

"You have a broken arm and leg, a crushed wrist, a wound on your head that is healing fine, and cuts and bruises."

"Yeah, I could feel some pain in my leg………."

"You have pain?" Ayla asked, healing mode on, "I will make you some medicine to help."

"Actually" the man started, "it isn't that bad, I think I can manage without it."

"Well see how you feel, if the pain gets worse then I can give you something" she smiled. "By the way, I am Ayla, how do you come to speak our language so well, you are not a Zelendonii."

The man smiled, "no Ayla I am not a Zelendonii, my people are called the Valencii, my mate was originally a Zelendonii who journeyed to our people, and we fell in love. She taught me the language, but unfortunately she died recently, and she asked me to go to her people, with a spirit stone so that the Zelendonia could lead her spirit back to her ancestral home and her family. She never had children, and I had no one left with the Valencii so I promised I would find her people and settle with them so I would be close to her. My name is Marcoda."

--

When Marcoda was well again, and starting to get around, Joharran decided that they would have a celebration to welcome him.

"Marcoda" he asked, when everyone's plates were filled with food, "will you tell us about your mate, Ayla has told me that she was a Zelendonii."

"My mate's name was Shadora."

Marthona gasped, "Shadora?" she queried, "I knew a girl called Shadora when I was young, she left on a journey with her brother."

"Yes, she came with a brother, but he carried on in his travels, said he felt the mother was leading him somewhere" he informed them. "We never saw him again, his name was………."

"Michelar, his name was Michelar" Marthona smiled, "I remember I fancied myself in love with him, but I was still a girl, and he was a young man, and rightfully only interested in the young women. They left the summer before I became a woman."

Ayla was so caught up in the romance of the young girl travelling to her mate, that she was shocked when she felt a light touch on her arm.

It was Lanoga, who had a grimace of pain on her face, "I think the baby is coming" she quietly stated.

Ayla awkwardly jumped up, her stomach protruding from her clothes, she knew that soon she would deliver her child but tonight was Lanoga's time and she would help her in any way she needed.

"Zelendonii" she said, looking at the woman, and then nodded slightly at Lanoga.

--

"You are nearly there" Ayla told Lanoga hours later, standing up she arched her sore back, and winced when she felt a contraction, another one.

Ayla ignored her pain, and concentrated on Lanoga who was birthing her first child. "Everything is going fine" she tried to calm the young woman.

"It hurts so much" Lanoga moaned.

"I know" Ayla answered through gritted teeth, she knew exactly how painful it was.

"I need to push" Lanoga shouted, "I need to push, pu--sh, pu--sh!" Lanoga started to push.

"Pant" Ayla instructed her, knowing her own baby was very close. She quickly examined Lanoga; double checking to make sure the pain she felt wasn't making her sloppy or unfocused.

"You can push Lanoga" she told her, feeling water dribble down her own leg.

"Zelendonii can you watch Lanoga for a little while" Ayla asked.

"What is going on Ayla, it is not like you to leave a labouring woman at such an important time" Zelendonii enquired, but had her answer when she saw Ayla take off her leggings and crouch down on the floor. Water and blood flowed from her birth passage as she delivered her baby.

"Ayla" Zelendonii cried out, "why didn't you say anything?"

"Lanoga needed me" Ayla simply stated, cleaning out the baby's mouth, "Lanoga needs you."

Zelendonii nodded, "I will get another woman's help first though" she told Ayla, and hurried out of the hearth, returning within moments with Marthona to find Ayla, holding her baby guiding Lanoga in giving birth to her own.

"Ayla" smiled Marthona, "is your baby a boy or a girl?"

"Ayla grinned, "she is another girl."


	2. Kayla, 10,000BC

Child of the child, travel down generation by generation through time, until another baby girl was born, who would be named af

Child of the child, travel down generation by generation through time, until another baby girl was born, who would be named after her long forgotten ancient ancestor, Ayla.

Kayla peered at the dying animal; food was scarce now that the great beasts were becoming extinct. The large heavy mammoth reduced to bones, the fearsome woolly rhinoceros gone the same way. The dirk toothed tiger had roared its last. The land was changing, no longer the great expanse of cold ice. The cold long winters were a memory of the past, as the ice age came to a finished. Nothing would ever be the same again.

--

After so many years, hundreds of generations, Kayla's people, the Selodona, still lived on the land that their ancient ancestors had existed on. It fact, they were very similar, not much had changed since Ayla's time, they still used flint to make their tools and they still gathered and hunted most of their food.

Kayla arrived back at the ninth camp of the carrying a large amount of mammoth meat in a pack on her back.

"Hello" she shouted nearly bent double by the weight, at only fourteen years old she was not used to carrying so much weight. This was usually reserved for the much stronger men. "Hello" she yelled again and was relieved to hear movement from within the large structure.

"Kayla, is that you?" a male voice asked, "why did you leave the camp without a protector?"

"Father, I am a big girl now" she moaned.

"I know you are, but you will always be my little girl" Jonton, her father tried to soothe her, "you must forgive your old dad, but I worry. You know the world is a dangerous place now."

"I know father" Kayla sighed, "you worry that a desperate and lonely wild animal will attach me, in its desire to stay alive."

"Yes, and then there is the way the river has changed, flooding more that it has ever done so before" Jonton reminded her, "anyway, you know that we have decided that we are going to move soon, that this place is no longer safe, I just don't want you to be left behind."

"But father…"

"You will have to placate your mother too, she was really scared."

Kayla walked into the shelter, followed by Jonton, seeing her mother's red eyes she felt guilty. "I'm sorry mother" she started, but then remembered her pack, lugging it off her back she dumped it in front of the woman, "I found a dead mammoth" she excitedly gushed, "look I cut a sizeable amount of the meat off to bring to you."

--

Kezia, her mother put trembling hands out to take the meat and gave her daughter a weak smile. "Kayla, I haven't' had any mammoth meat for such a long time" he said, trying to sit up. "I will start preparing it, here give it here" she still held her hands out.

"Mother, you are too weak" Kayla told her. "I will cook it for you just the way you like it."

"You are a good girl" Kezia said, flopping back against her cushions with exhaustion.

Kayla frowned "have you had your tea today?" she asked, "I will make you some if you want."

"Thank you love" Kezia murmured softly, "no I haven't had it today."

Kayla quickly got up and went to their hearth, which was burning away on that cold day. She quickly put some water into a clay bowl on to heat and looked through the rabbit skin bag her mother had made her when she was a small child.

Kezia was an ill woman and had been for some time. It had started when she had had palpitations, and slight difficulty in breathing. Now her heart ached each time it pumped her life force around her body. Everyone knew it was failing but didn't like to admit that as it would make it too real. For now Kezia's condition was controlled by the tea that Kayla gave her, a tea that when she was the main healer of the camp had made for others, now it was her turn.

Kayla pulled a small packet out of the rabbit skin, and put some of the foxglove leaves in a clay cup adding the hot water to steep.

While she was waiting for the medicinal tea to cool, she started to prepare the mammoth meat. First of all she used her flint knife to cut a pattern of criss cross into the meat, and then stuffed rosemary and mint into the crevasses. She rubbed animal fat over the meat and then put it on a spit to roast; one that she could turn to make sure the meat didn't burn but cooked evenly.

She checked the tea, and deciding it was lukewarm and the cup was cool, she took it to her mother, and helping the woman sit up, she gently held the cup to her lips allowing her to drink.

"Thank you" Kezia sighed breathlessly and went back to her troubled sleep.

"She won't last much longer, will she?"

Kayla turned to see her father, Jonton tears running down his face. "It won't be the same when she is gone, though at least she won't have to journey to our new home" he continued trying to be sensible, though his heart was breaking.

"I don't think so" Kayla answered in a hushed tone, shaking her head she carried on, "no it won't be long at all."

--

Kayla stared at the ground where they had buried her mother. "Has it only been a day since she died?" she thought, "for it seems like a life time away." All memory of the event had misted into one horror filled moment, when her beloved mother had breathed her last, as her heart ceased pumping blood around her tired, beleaguered body.

"She is at peace now" Jonton gentle told her, putting his arm around his daughter.

Kayla nodded, and tried to smile but found it impossible, the only expression that her face was capable of making at that time was a horror filled grimace, a hollow look within her eyes. "I know she was in pain, so much pain, and she bore it so bravely, and I should be glad that the pain is over for her, but father it hurts so badly that I will never see her gentle face again" and she broke into raw weeping as the shock of it all finally washed over her. "I will never see her again" she sobbed.

"I know you won't" Jonton blubbered, pulling her into his protecting arms, "but she wouldn't want you to feel like this. She would want you to get on with your life, safe in the knowledge that she is in the mother's arms for eternity."

Kayla sniffed, and wiped her red rimmed eyes, it make her mother's passing easier to bear when she thought of her with the mother. "She will be the mother's handmaiden" she cried, a fresh wave of tears flowing at the thought of her mother's pleasure at serving the Doni.

"And she will see her own mother again" Jonton reminded her, "you know how much she always missed her."

"As I will always miss her."

"You will" Jonton agreed, "but one day, when you pass then you will be reunited with her, and all those who went before her."

--

"We have to move from this valley to higher ground" the leader Garan said, trying to convince his people to move.

"We have talked about this before" Jonton commented, "but where are we going to go?"

"I think we should go to the mountains to the east of here, we will be safe from the flood water there"

So once a vote had been held, it was decided that they would travel to the mountains, to one called Chaine des Puys.

--

Kayla watched the young man in front of her closely, this was the fifth day of their escape to safer land and he was limping.

Through out her mother's illness, she had enjoyed preparing cures and caring for her, it had become second nature, so when she had approached the healer and asked to be taught the woman hadn't been surprised. She had an instinctive gift for the art coupled with a desire to help.

So as she watched the man, she felt her need to help tingle within her and she hurried to catch up with him.

"Hello" she said, noticing his beautiful brown eyes.

"Hi" the man responded easily.

"Its Talanar isn't it?" she asked, knowing that he was new to their group.

Talanar smiled and nodded, "can I help you?" he asked wondering what the gorgeous blonde haired woman wanted with him.

"You are limping, I want to help you" she told him, allowing all her feelings and tenderness to be communicated to the young man.

"Yeah, my boots have been rubbing my big toe; I have a blister on it."

When they eventually stopped, Kayla carefully pulled off Talanar's boot, and peeled back his inner liner to reveal a swollen toe, with a large broken blister on the edge of it. "The blister has burst" she told him.

"Really" Talanar winced, "it wasn't this morning."

"Why did you not show one of the healers? They would have made it feel a lot better and then you wouldn't have spent your day in pain."

"I………..I didn't want to admit it hurt" he admitted, "I thought people would laugh at me."

"Well, I'm not laughing" Kayla seriously told him, "and I am going to make this feel a lot better."

Talanar nodded, "thank you Kayla."

She looked up at him, "you know my name?"

Talanar blushed.

Kayla got to work; first she made a spark with the fire stones which landed on the kindling and moufflan wool she had arranged on the ground. Soon she had a roaring fire and put a clay pot filled with water over it to heat.

She looked through her rabbit skin bag and pulled out what she needed. She poured the now hot water into three clay bowls and then she added herbs to each.

Kayla gently held Talanar's foot, picking up a bowl she started to bathe his wound, "this is chamomile" she told him. She then used a marigold wash, this is an antiseptic, it will stop any evil spirits from invading your injury." Lastly she dabbed with a rabbit skin an infusion of yarrow, "this will help with your pain, and help it to heal quickly." She then bandaged his foot using plantain leaves and a rabbit skin. "Try to keep off your foot tonight" she instructed him.

Talanar smiled, "I haven't got any intentions of walking tonight, not if you stay and talk to me" he whispered, causing her to blush this time.

"I would like that" she said shyly.

--

By the time they had arrived at the mountains, Talanar and Kayla had become good friends, in fact they had become more than friends.

Talanar approached Kayla, the leaders had decided for now to live in a cave like their ancestors, and so he found her in her new hearth sting by her fire.

"Can I speak to you Kayla?" he asked, nervously shuffling his feet.

"Yes of course" she smiled, "I love talking to you Talanar, you are my best friend."

Talanar smiled at this, and when he got her outside, he asked "is that how you see me? As your best friend."

"I...I." she didn't know what to say.

"Because I feel something far more than that, I love you Kayla, will you be my mate?" He gulped, waiting for her answer.

Kayla stared at the worried man, she had dreamed of this moment ever since she had treated his foot, now it had come true, and she could feel exuberance building within her. She smiled at him, positively beamed and launched herself into his arm. "Yes" she laughed, "nothing would make me happier than to be your mate."

--

She walked out into the bright light, her father Jonton at her side. She could see her love standing on a cone of the mountain waiting for her and she smiled.

"Let's do it" she grinned at her father.

She approached Talanar, examining every aspect of the man that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. From his long black hair, to his liquid brown eyes. From the bridge above his eyes to his lightly barrelled chest that was now puffed out with emotion. He was the same height as Kayla, but his body was far chunkier, more so that a lot of the men that she had grown up around. His muscles rippled against the confines of his tunic and she yearned to stroke them and squeeze them and feel them contract.

Kayla shook her head, trying to keep her mind on the importance of the ceremony but one look from him and she melted in his smile.

As she said each of her vows, she could only see his eyes, pulling her in, conveying to her his love and when the ceremony was finally over, she shivered as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

--

Kayla was asleep, when the rumbling started; frightened from her dream she saw her beloved's terrified face as rocks rained down from the ceiling of the cave they were spending their seclusion in. Gone was the peace of the last few days swallowed by the violent shaking of the earth as if an evil spirit was objecting to their mating.

"Watch out" she shouted as a large stone narrowly missed Talanar's head.

"We have to get out" he yelled back at her, hardly audible above the roar.

She watched in horror as a small part of the cave's ceiling detached itself and falling; it made a hollow sound as it hit Talanar's head, and then rolled off harmlessly. He instantly crumbled onto the ground, a trickle of blood running down his face.

"Talanar" she shouted in terror, and tried to get to him over the rolling floor. As she reached him, another rock started to topple, bigger this time, deadly.

Kayla with all her strength, and more beside grabbed his legs and pulled him out of the way of the falling rock. It embedded itself into the ground where his head had been second before.

She knew that time was running, with an inhuman force acquired from the adrenaline running through her veins, she threw him over her shoulder and ran, stumbling over the rock strewn floor, his weight overwhelming her.

As she fell out of the cave, dropping his heavy body on the soft grass, she heard a rumble behind her, turning around she saw the mouth of the cave a torrent of rocks, as it collapsed in on itself.

--

She dragged his prone body, her arms aching. She was covered in bruises and scratches from the rocks that had hit her in the cave. At the time she had barely felt them, she had been too caught up in their flight to safety. Now they stung, but the pain she felt more was the one caused by her unresponsive mate.

When they finally reached their people, she knew that there was only a glimmer of hope that he would survive. But she delivered him up into the hands of the healers and only then allowed herself to collapse, into her father's arms.

--

"Five months pregnant and no mate" Kayla moaned looking down at her already swollen belly.

"You might not have a mate Kayla" Jonton said tenderly, "but you have your father, and I will help you in whatever way you need, and so will the rest of our people."

Kayla stared at him, tears in her eyes. "I just miss Talanar so much, why did he have to go?"

Jonton shook his head, "it is the mystery of the mother, I don't know why she called him to her."

Kayla thought back to the cave in, she had nearly lost him that night, he had seemed to be getting better, but then the mother took him on her journey.

"I want Talanar" she groaned, "I need Talanar."

"Oh my Kayla" Jonton wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "I promise you, you will be happy again."

"How can I be, when I haven't got Talanar, when he can't share in the joy of this new life within me?"

"Kayla, Talanar is close, I can feel him with my spirit" Jonton smiled.

The long lonely nights slipped away at that statement, "you really think he is near?"

Jonton nodded, "yes very near" he agreed.

--

She stood on the bluff on the mountain looking out at an amazing from her windswept desolate place. Her stomach was bigger now, so big that she had to arch her back to balance herself out.

She stared off at the distance trees, their branches blowing in the bracing wind. Right before them, like ants on the cave floor was people slowly walking towards the cave.

"Visitors" she shouted, waddling back into the cave to tell everyone, "there are visitors in front of the forests, coming in this direction."

"We haven't had any visitors for ages" a child shouted with glee.

Kayla smiled down at the small one, "I bet they will have lots of stories to tell us" she giggled to the child.

There was a commotion at the front of the cave and Kayla turned to see many the Zelendonia of all their people assembled there.

"Kayla, you look wonderful" one of them smiled and touched her stomach with reverence.

Kayla looked at the woman and smiled, "thank you" she said, and then looked back at the deniers, as the group thinned out as many went to different hearths and right in the middle, she saw, her heart gave a lurch as she looked on the handsome face of the holy man stood before her.

And she gasped, and then swooned helplessly into his arms; looking up into brown eyes she said one word "Talanar."

--

The shock of seeing her mate after so many months of absence when he had been serving the mother was too much for Kayla. At exactly nine moons pregnant, she knew the time was near, but it seemed the time was now as the first of many contractions ripped through her body.

Talanar had picked her up when she had fainted but now she struggled to get away from him. He frowned at her unusual response and realised that he would probably not be getting pleasure that night. "Are you alright?" he asked as he put her down, "are you angry I have been gone so long?"

Kayla groaned an answer, though it was incoherent, and she could see from his face he didn't understand.

"I have been doing the mother's work" he smiled, his chest puffed out in pride, not noticing in what discomfort she was in.

"Humph" she answered the pain too intense to speak.

"Are you not proud of me?" he sadly enquired interpretrating the red face and grimace on her face as being from rage.

"Help me" she cried through gritted teeth.

"What?" he asked, still not understanding. "What do you want help with? Do you need more wood for your fire?"

Kayla shook her head with difficulty, "hurt?"

"Someone is hurt?" he asked, looking around.

Kayla rolled her eyes in her head and looked at her slow mate, righteous anger for the mean time pushing her pain to the back of her mind, she said "I am in pain, the baby is coming. Will you get your big thick head over to the healer and get me help."

Talanar opened his mouth into a big O, as the wheels of his brain started to work and then realising the urgency he shouted out, "quick Kayla is in labour, she needs help."

"Finally" she sighed, and then another contraction filled her body with pain, like the baby was grumbling at her ignoring it and its entry into the world.

--

"The baby is round the wrong way" the healer shouted, "it's coming bum first."

Talanar looked down as the new child's posterior entered to world, "it's a girl love" he told the labouring woman.

Kayla felt the sting of her birth passage opening wider than it was meant to.

"She is going to rip."

The healer got between Kayla's legs and using a flint knife reserved for birth, made a quick nick to her perineum, opening her even further. "Now push with your next contraction" she advised the new mother.

Kayla bore down against the pain, pushing with all her strength, feeling the baby as she slivered out right into the woman's hands.

"Welcome to the world little one" she said and then past the bawling child to her mother.

Kayla held her new born baby in her arms, feeling love swell in her heart at the sight of the new born girl. She was a pretty child, brown hair like her father's and bright blue mesmerising eyes, which pulled her in, and just for a moment she saw another child, one that would live generations and generations from now, in the bright future.

She would be named Icaya.


	3. Icaya, 4,040BC

Icaya looked up at the trembling mountains, that was the name her people had called them

Icaya looked up at the trembling mountains, that was the name her people had called them. Stories went back further than anyone could remember further back than time. She remembered the story her mother had told her when she was a young child to warn her not to go into the caves. It was about a young couple who had nearly lost their lives when the cave they were in collapsed. Icaya shivered at the memory, and turned her back on the brooding view.

Icaya was a modern girl, brought up on a neolithic farm; she was a beauty amongst the beasts and all the dirt that the animals made. Not for her the wearing of wild animals skins, she wore clothes weaved from the hair of the sheep that they raised. They were scratchy but serviceable, protecting her from scraps and scratches.

"Icaya, can you get your father and tell him that dinner is ready?" her mother, Selana shouted to her.

"Yes mother" she shouted back and started to skip joyfully towards the slopes where Bephezar her father was tending to their flock.

Bephezar was a healer, but he specialised in helping the animals amongst them. He could always be found on the mountains where the sheep loved to wander, healing a cut of a head, bathing a sore eye, Icaya's father was patient with the animals and instinctively they responded back at him, nudging him to show their love.

"Father" she shouted when she found him, a young lamb in his arms, "dinner is ready."

Bephezar nodded, "I'm coming, but I am bringing this little one with me, her mother was killed by a wolf last night and I found her quivering under a bush."

Icaya stared at the quaking animal "arh she is so cute" she commented. "Can I carry her?"

Bephezar looked at the girl, she was only twelve years old, on the verge of becoming a woman but not quite there, but already she was showing tenderness that many of her peers would never experience, she would be a truly remarkable healer when she grew up, he knew this intuitively.

They walked down the trembling hill, the baby lamb held securely in Icaya's arms. "How will she live without her mother?" she asked.

"We will feed her milk" he told her, though I am not really sure how yet."

Dinner that night was full of simple fare, Selana had made a big pot of stew for her hungry brood, and they filled up their empty spaces with course bread that was smothered in butter that she had made from the milk of their two cows. They sat in the one room in their hut that served as a cooking area, living area and sleeping area.

"So, are we going to have another animal in the house tonight?" Selana queried, "can't it sleep outside?"

"It's too small mother" Icaya sighed, "if it sleeps outside then the wolf who killed its mother could come back for the baby."

"Yeah, I suppose so, it is just the last time we had any animal living with us, it covered the floor with so much of its excrement that I had to change the straw."

"I will look after it" Icaya insisted, "I promise, if it makes any messes, I will clean them up."

"Well" she wavered, "I suppose, just as though I don't have any more work to do, then it will be okay."

Icaya's face broke into a beaming smile, "thank you mother" she said, laughing at her father's smirk of amusement.

--

Icaya had a little lamb

Its fleece was white as snow

And if Icaya doesn't keep it safe,

It'll be black when the mountains blow.

--

Midget the lamb followed Icaya as she did her chores. When she fed the cows they mooed in confusion at the tiny animal. When she dug up fresh vegetables from her mother's garden, Midget pawed the ground and when she helped her father who was treating a tame wolf's injured paw, she stared with her big eyes as if to say "don't eat me mr wolf."

Icaya laughed at the antics of the little lamb, now her constant companion. It had been two weeks and the animal was growing every day from the milk they had been feeding her from a small animal skin. She was getting plump and cuddly, and the nervousness she had first shown had lost since been replaced with curiosity.

--

"Icaya" Selana shouted one morning "you haven't cleaned up from Midget. There is poop all over our home."

Icaya, lying on her straw stuffed mattress raised a weary head and looked at the mess the little lamb had made. "Uhh" she moaned, wondering how such a small animal could produce so much excrement.

"Icaya, you promised" Selana reminded her though she too had grown to love the little animal and when she was out gathering plants to supplement those she grew, she had taken to picking a few dandelions that she knew the young lamb loved.

Icaya threw her blanket off her legs and stood up; taking the basket she used for the droppings she started to pick up the soiled straw. The floor finally clear, she got out the broom and used it to sweep the floor clean.

Finally she went to where the clean fresh strew was stored and spread some out over the ground.

"That is better" Selana smiled, "now go and wash the evil spirits off your hands, and I will cook your breakfast."

Icaya quickly ran to the river and cleaned her hands. She could smell what her mother was cooking.

"Mmm, pancakes" she laughed with glee, and hurried back into their home.

--

**Her stomach full, her chores done Icaya wanted to see her best friend. "Can I go and see Ceris" she asked, wandering how her friend was.**

**Selana nodded "yeah, have a good time."**

**Icaya hurried out before her mother changed her mind, running over to her friend's home, she tapped on the door.**

**"Hello" she heard a voice and the door opened to reveal her best friend.**

**"Hi Ceris, do you want to go for a walk?"**

**"I'd love to" Ceris answered, and then turned around "mother can I go for a walk with Icaya?"**

**"Yeah alright, just be careful" her mother's voice could be heard inside.**

**--**

**They sat at the top of one of the mountains, feeling the wind blow through their hair.**

**"How is your little lamb?" Ceris asked hr.**

**"It pooped everywhere this morning" Icaya moaned, but then she brightened "she is so sweet."**

**"Yeah, I have seen her follow you everywhere I am surprised that she isn't here with us right now."**

**"Actually so am I" Icaya answered worriedly, "Ceris will you help me look for her? She might be in trouble."**

**The two girls hurriedly got to their feet and started to search.**

**"Midget" called Icaya, "where are you?"**

**"I will go this way, you look over there, near where that smoke is coming from" Ceris instructed her tearful friend.**

**Icaya climbed the hill and stared around, she walked through the strange smelling smoke, "pooh, that smells like bad eggs" she groaned trying not to breathe in the smell in.**

**"Icaya, I've found her" she heard Ceris' voice calling to her, and hurried away from the foul smelling place.**

**--**

**It was the hottest day of the year, or any year that Icaya could remember. When she went outside the air seemed to sizzling in a haze. She felt hot and decided that she needed to bathe her sweat drenched boy, so she ran to the bathing lake, startled when she realised that it had become a large muddy puddle.**

**"Where has all the water gone?" she wondered feeling scared. She quickly walked to the river and noticed that there was less of the fast flowing water that had been there the day before. **

**She quickly hurried back to her home, "mother" she shouted as she burst through the door.**

**"What?" Selana asked, wearily blinking her eyes as the bright sunshine flowed through the open door hurting her eyes.**

**"All the water in the bathing pool is nearly gone and the river is smaller" she exclaimed, her words garbled in her anxiety to get them out.**

**"Okay" her mother answered, sitting up. "what are you on about?"**

**Icaya didn't answer, as at that moment her father burst through the door.**

**"Come and see" he laughed, "it is snowing in the summer, and the snow isn't even cold, come and see."**

**They both hurried for the door and saw a blizzard cascading from the sky.**

**"It wasn't snowing a minute ago and why is it so hot?" Icaya queried.**

**The snow continued through out the day, converting everything in a fine layer of grey white gung. By the evening many of the older and youngest r ones were having difficulty breathing and Icaya was helping her mother tend to them.**

**"Icaya go and bring me more coltsfoot from our home, it is the only thing that is helping them to breathe" her mother ordered her.**

**As Icaya was about to go search for the breathing calming plant, she felt the earth start trembling beneath her feet. The hut they were in trembled with the tremor and many looked scared.**

**"The spirits are angry" one woman screamed running out into the falling warm snow.**

**Icaya followed her, seeing that the air was even thicker now with the white stuff. "I don't think this is snow" she mumbled, and seeing that the woman had disappeared into the white haze, she decided to find Midget and see if she was alright. The little animal was huddled in a corner shaking with fear and crying. When she saw Icaya she hurried to her and hugged her small body to her leg.**

**Icaya picked her up, and quickly picked up the coltsfoot basket and started walking back to the hut her mother was in.**

**Midget struggled in her arms, like she knew that there was danger. "It is alright" she tired to soothe the little lamb, "it is only snow."**

**"Baaaaaaa" the little animal answered her back.**

**When she reached the hut where most of the people were gathered she heard a rumble of thunder. "A good rain will make everything better" she thought for a moment, but that thought was quickly turned to horror as she glanced over at the trembling mountains and saw a stream of orangey red liquid bursting from one of the mountains.**

**"Motherrr" she screamed in terror as another earth tremor rocked her off her feet.**

**Selana staggered across the floor of the churning hut, all she could think was her child was calling her, was needing her and she sounded terrified.**

**"I'm coming Icaya" she shouted above the roar that filled her ears. She found the door, and stumbled out, reeling from the sight before her eyes. "The mountain is on fire" she shrieked.**

**A burning rock fell on the hut she had just vacated, setting the roof on fire. "Everyone get out" she screeched, going back inside to pull out the horrified people.**

**Icaya held the struggling lamb to her tightly; there was no way she was going to let her go. She tucked her into the top of her tunic, tying her belt firmly so the animal couldn't escape. She felt midget still at the sound of her beating heart, so reminiscent of the sound before she had been born into this horrible world.**

**There were more rocks now, fired from the depths of the mother's underground, burning their vengeful wrath on the people down below who had dared to live at the foot of the evil spirits.**

**"Mother, we have to get away" Icaya shouted, feeling her ears were going to burst. "It's too dangerous here."**

**Her mother nodded, and organising all those she had managed to save from the burning hut, they started to move off, leaving all that had given their lives meaning behind.**

**"Where's father?" Icaya shouted, running off to find him.**

**"**Bephezar**" she heard her mother shout.**

**She didn't find her father, but she did find someone who she loved. She found Ceris, her body a burning mass from one of the fiery stones that had fallen on her. Her face, though covered in soot, wasn't burnt, though already Icaya saw the flames reaching the shocked face of her dead friend.**

**"Icaya" she heard her father's voice echoing through the destruction.**

**"Father" she shouted hurrying to the sound of his voice, she couldn't see any more through the dense snow that she now knew was ash.**

**When they had reached the line of the forest, still in danger but for the small group looked back at their home, forever destroyed, they were homeless and they had nothing but each other. **

**--**

**The small group, all that was left of the ninth people of the Calandi, decided to make it to their nearest neighbours**

**"We have to warn them" Selana had insisted, but when they got there they realise that they were too late for gushing down the mountain at an alarming speed and heading straight for the fourteenth people was a flood of what looked like vapours and rocks. The people who realised what was coming ran in panic but it was far too late, and it completely buried the area, enveloping the frightened villagers in an everlasting death.**

**"We can't look for any one else" Icaya cried, "we have to get away, before that happens to us."**

**"Sadly I agree" **Bephezar stated, "let's hope some of our people have been more fortunate."

**--**

**By the end of the day, they looked like white ghost walking through a ghostlike forest of dead trees; the ash covered everything, suffocating all that were within its range.**

**Icaya was thirsty, they had no drinking water, the river was nearby but it was filled with too much ash to be drinkable. They could have boiled it over a fire but they didn't have anything to boil it in. Two tears trickled down through her dirty face, she knew it was useless, they were already dead. She felt like she should walk into the river and drown herself in its scummy water. But something made her hold on, maybe it was because she had lost so much. Perhaps it was the sleeping little lamb, placed in her clothing next to her heart. She didn't know what it was, but one thing she knew life had to go on; she owed it to the memory of her vibrant friend who had died so horrible but would have wanted her to carry on. **

**--**

**The hunters were confused by the ash that filled the air, as they returned to their people bearing the fruit of their labour that would complement the farms; they discussed what could be causing this unusual phenomenon.**

**They were walking through a particularly bushy area of forest, stained by the white grey snow, and as they came out into the open they saw a rat tag group of snow covered people.**

**"Hello" the lead hunter greeted them.**

**"Balantar, is that you?" the white covered man said.**

**"I am sorry do I know you?"**

**The stranger sighed, "it is me, **Bephezar and this weary dirty lot is all that remains of the ninth people.

The group of hunters gasped "what happened?" they asked, many had friends and family amongst the ninth not to mention the people they were from, the seventh.

"The trembling mountain turned to fire, raining down on our people, we went to the fourteenth people but they were enveloped in some sort of flow."

"Have you any water?" Icaya asked, seeing the water skins they carried.

"Yeah, sure" one of the hunters subconsciously handed over the life restoring liquid to her.

"Don't drink too much" shouted one of the survivors, desperate for a drink herself.

Icaya poured some of the water into her mouth, taking care not to waste any of the precious drink. She then passed it to her mother, who after having a small drink helped all the surviving children drink a little.

"I have to go and find my mate" a hunter shouted, and before anyone could stop him he sprinted off in the direction of the lava spewing mountain.

Bephezar shook his head; he knew that the young man would only find death at the bottom of the mountain, not just his people but his own.

"No one else should try to get to the mountain; it is too late for those left behind. Only those who managed to get away like us will have survived the mountain blowing up."

**--**

**The hunters had been carrying hide tents, enough to provide shelter for many of the two groups. The hunters and the stronger men took turned to stay outside, guarding the woman and children, though they knew in their hearts that the danger that night wasn't from the wild animals but from the spirits of that mountain.**

**It was a long night and when the sun finally struggled to make itself known through the white ash, all knew that despite their tiredness that they would have to walk as far away as they could that day, trying to escape the destruction caused by the evil spirits.**

**--**

**They had walked all day and most of the night through the choking ash but now they were camped in a cave that was mostly free of the airborne pollutant, it still was quite thick outside but inside the cave there was enough air to be able to built a number of fires. **

**Selana had managed to strain much of the ash out of the river water they had collected on the way and now was boiling it in a cooking skin. They were very thirsty but she knew that unless they did this then the evil spirits from the mountain would poison them.**

**Over another fire, a large piece of the animal the hunters had killed was roasting on a spit sending out the smell of delicious meat which replaced the smell of the burnt mountain in their nostrils.**

**Another cooking skin had been place over a fire and filled with meat and some vegetation that they had found on the way, covered in ash but still good, it had just needed a good wash. The hunters had been carrying some grain with them, and this was added to the stew.**

**When the food was ready the small group devoured it, especially the stew that provided a much needed relief, though the water once cooled was wonderful to the distressed people.**

**Icaya had boiled some cleaned grass up, and fed it to the little parched lamb. **

**Midget wasn't sure about this liquid, she missed the milk that she was used to but trusting Icaya she drank it all, and stomach filled she fell into a calm sleep, not realising how distressed the human's around her were.**

**--**

**When they moved on again after a couple of days finding supplies, including a lot of carcasses of suffocated animals, they started on their way again. They knew they had to get to the sea, where any ash would be blown away by the strong wind. That was what they were aiming for though they didn't know how long it would take them.**

**Icaya glanced back at the cave which had offered them protection for the last two days, and sent a prayer to the goddess that it or other caves like it would provide shelter for the rest of her lost people. She just hoped that her small group was not all that was left of the Calandi.**

**--**

**When they had walked for several days from the cave, about a week since the catastrophe, they came upon a group of people hiding in a cave from the mysterious snow that had come from nowhere, but had covered and choked all their homes.**

Bephezar** had explained to the Lendone about the fire on the mountain, and how he and his group had fled the destruction that evil spirits had sent upon their people and seemingly the rest of the land too.**

**The Lendone's leader Tapmar informed **Bephezar that they were about two days walk from the endless sea and invited the remnant of the Calandi** to join them.**

**--**

**Two days later, Icaya stood on a cliff looking out at the ebbing tide as the cool breeze blew through her hair. There was no ash here, the danger was gone and Icaya realised that now was the time for her to grieve for all that she had lost.**

**--**

"Icaya, Icaya" called the voice, drifting through the dream that the girl was having.

"Ceris?" Icaya called, only hearing the voice of her friend.

"Why did you leave me? Why didn't you save me?" Ceris asked.

"Ceris, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I would have given anything for you to have lived."

"You could had died instead" the ethereal voice answered, and Icaya felt herself on fire, and saw Ceris looking down at her.

"It hurts so much" Ceris said, "you feel my pain."

Icaya felt the pain rip through her as the searing heat claimed her life. But just as she thought she could stand now more, the positions reversed she was once again standing over her dear friends as she burnt, but this time Ceris' eyes stared at her, "you didn't save me."

Icaya woke up believing she was back by the mountain, realising where she was and that she was safe she buried her head in her hands and cried "I'm sorry Ceris, I wish I could have saved you."

--

They stayed by the sea for many days and then started to travel along the coast north. But they couldn't escape the ash; it was always there, covering seemingly the whole world.

"The spirits are angry with us and this land is cursed" one of the wise men proclaimed one day, "we need to pray to the goddess for protection, and a new home."

"But where?" Bephezar asked.

"The servants of the goddess will meditate tonight for the answer" the man mysteriously said. "Any of your people who serve the goddess are welcome to join us."

--

Icaya sat amidst the holy people. As a trainee healer she had been invited by her father Bephezar to attend the meditation meeting.

Now, sat beside him and her mother Selana, she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the goddess and what her will was.

Suddenly, she could see the top of her head, as the view widened so she could see the whole of the continent. She saw the blown mountain, orange moulted rock flowing from it. She saw the land suffocated in ash, and realised that it went much farther than she had imagined. Most wonderful of all, she saw the distant figures of many of her people, they had escaped east instead of west like them, and had found people to live with, they were safe and well. "Goodbye" she heard echo through her head, and could have sworn that she saw the people waving.

She felt the vision pulled to the north, and after crossing a small body of water, she saw a fresh, green and healthy land, vibrant with life and it was waiting for her.

"This is the land I have chosen for you" the goddess told her. "You must follow the coast north until I tell you to stop and cross the small sea to the land of your new people, the Britania."

Icaya opened her eyes, and saw everyone blearily looking around, "so we make for the Britania" Bephezar said.

--

**They started the next day, walking around the coast, if they could have ridden the horses they had owned before the mountain fire, then they would have got where they were going a lot quicker, but as it was they had to walk at the speed of the slowest individual.**

**Therefore they only managed to move a small amount each day up the coast, but little by little the diminutive distance became a vast area, covering land after land, people after people, all who had been affected by the distant mountain.**

**When they had been walking for two weeks, they came upon a band of weary travellers also escaping the ravages of the mountain, and its ash. But these people, unlike all the rest they had met had managed to keep their animals and were travelling with great flocks of sheep and immense herds of horses, seeking sanctuary from the devastation.**

**One of these new people was a sheep herder, only just a boy but risen to be the master after his own mentor had expired from breathing problems. So the young man, at the tender age of thirteen had been thrust into the role of managing a large group of sheep. **

**Icaya had seen the young man, and had decided to talk to him about her own lamb, Midget. Delicately she approached him, a smile of greeting on her face.**

**The man looked up as the girl walked up to him, he had grown used to only having the company of the sheep and his mentor, and was finding it hard to cope with the intrinsically of living with a large group of people. Now that group had gotten bigger, and the girl looked like she meant business. He gulped in anticipation as he wondered what she wanted.**

**"Hi" Icaya started, "you are Logan aren't you?" she asked. **

**"I…..I, that is…I mean…yes, Logan, my name is Logan" he stammered with anxiety.**

**Icaya the wise girl that she was quickly realised that this shy boy behaved as he did because of the lack of human company he had had. She decided right there, that she would do something about that; he would never be lonely again. But right now, she had more important things on her mind.**

**"Logan, I have something to show you" she told him, and reached into her tunic, pulling out the not so little lamb. "This is Midget, she is the only animal left from the farms that sheltered in the shadow of the fire mountain. But I am not her mother, and though I have been feeding her stewed grass, I think she still needs milk, and she needs her own kind.**

**Logan reached out and carefully took the lamb. "She looks healthy" he commented, smiling at the beautiful young woman. "I will introduce her to one of the **ewes, she is a gentle girl and if any of the sheep accept this little one it should be her. She has a young lamb probably about the same age as Midget, so she will have plenty of milk."

Icaya beamed at him, dazzling him with her smile, "can we try now?" she eagerly asked.

**She followed him to an area set aside where a nursing ewe was feeding a young lamb. The sheep looked up at their approach and baaa at Logan.**

**"It is alright" he cooed at her, and released Midget for her inspection.**

**Icaya held her breath as her little friend scampered up to the mama sheep, who sniffed, and then bleated at her, welcoming her into the fold.**

**Logan grinned, "she's accepted her" he said.**

**Midget from then on lived with the ewe, becoming her second child. Icaya spent much time on the journey visiting whatever place that Logan had set up for the flock, happy to see the little one becoming bigger and bigger with the love and milk supplied by the doting mother.**

**By the time of the first snow fall of winter, earlier that year, they had managed to cover half the ground that they needed to travel, but when the severity of the winter became apparent, it was decided, like their cave dwelling ancestors before them to stop and live in the caves they had found. **

**It was during this time of hiatus, that Icaya when visiting the sheep stopped going to see Midget so much and looked forwards to seeing the smiling face of the gentle Logan.**

**All through the long dark winter she became more and more enamoured of him. When many of the hardy sheep died from the intense cold, she had cried with him, in his distress over their demise. She sat with him, a constant comfort to his aching spirit and by the end of the winter, when spring finally came, when flowers started to fling aside the cruelty of winter, she knew he would forever be in her heart. She had found her soul mate, now she just had to convince him.**

**--**

**The coldness of the winter, the severity of the snow seemed to have cleared the ash, and now as they continued their journey to the new land, nature around them burst into a medley of colour, as new born birds twittered a melody of hope. **

**Joy for the future captured these peoples' minds, as they left behind the evilness of the last year and looked forward to all that the future would bring them.**

**Logan felt this optimism, he felt it is his sheep, and in the glory of nature, but most of all he felt it in the simple happiness of the girl that had brought joy to the emptiness of his life, caused by the death of his precious only companion. He felt hope blossom in his heart as he realised that he had found his soul mate, now he just had to convince her.**

**--**

**Selana watched the two from a distance, it was obvious to everyone, except the two it involved, that they liked each other, but she knew that she could trust them to work it out for themselves and if they didn't then she would give them a gentle shove in the right direction.**

**Icaya had been helping her mother more and more, they were the only healers in their group, and were needed time and time again each day. Soon Icaya became as proficient as her mother and only a short time after wards she became as good as her long dead ancestor, though neither women would ever know.**

**One evening after a long and tiring walk found Icaya treating the stinging sunburn of a tearful little girl. When she had realise how hot the day would be, she had spent all her time looking for burdock leaves knowing that there would be many in need of its healing properties that night. When the distressed young mother had arrived at her fire with the crying child, she had already stripped and shredded the leaves into a bowl, and pounded them into a mash with cold water. Now she rubbed it into the child's burns, taking away the discomfort and heat. The little girl who moments before had been red eyed, turned around and hugged Icaya, a big smile on her face.**

**Every night was like that one, as they came to the two women with their ailments, sunburn, sore feet, headaches and numerous other complaints.**

**And each day they continued to follow the coast until they eventually got to where the goddess bid them stop and led them inland to a small group of people, who made traded with those who lived across the body of water, crossing in small log boats. The leader readily agreed to transport the homeless people, for the price of several sheep and horses.**

**Unbeknown to them, the place they had turned inland was actually the place that they would start their sea journey from, it was actually the smallest gap between the two lands, anywhere else and the boats along with themselves would have been washed away in the fierce sea.**

**--**

**Icaya and Logan had eventually worked out their feeling for each other. It had taken a long time, and plenty of longing looks and red faces. Eventually those around them could take it no longer and had told them to wake up and smell the bitter aroma of tea, they had pushed them together and told them most emphatically that they made a wonderful couple and were perfect for each other.**

**And now Icaya and Logan were an item, and to be mated, the first in the new land, the initial day of their landing. **

On the side of the windswept hill she met him, knee deep in the sweet smelling wild grass, she smiled up into his gentle face as he took hold of her hand and led her to the where they were all waiting to perform the ceremony that would join their lives forever.

While they spent their isolation together, the rest of their people got to know the land they stood on, and the new people they were to become part of.

The Britania enveloped them easily, they were used to a constant trickle of newcomers from all the lands the other side of the sea that surrounded their small island. Recently there had been more arriving, ones that came with tales of white ash falling from the sky.

Bephezar was able to fill in the rest of the story; they knew about the ash but didn't know that the mountain had burnt throwing out the ash, to cover the lands.

They settled quickly and built new houses and farms, and gradually settled down into their new lives, though their old homes and neighbours would never be forgotten.

--

Icaya hurried from the stream her cheeks flushed from her early morning bath. The water evaporated off her lithe body as the heat of the summer emerged on that day. But Icaya didn't care; she hadn't been feeling well recently, and just had the most excruciating pain rip through her body.

"Mother" she shouted, falling to her knees with the pain. "Mother there is something wrong with me."

Selana heard her daughter's voice and hurried out of her hut, to find Icaya wallowing naked on the grass, a grimace across her pretty face.

"Mother it hurts" Icaya cried out.

Selana helped her daughter up, and led her to the hut she had just vacated, pushing Bephezar out of his furs, she told a quaking Icaya to lay down so she could examine her.

"Mother, what is happening to me?" Icaya screamed her eyes filled with tears.

"I don't know Icaya" her mother calmly spoke, "maybe you are blessed."

"And being blessed would give me this much pain?" Icaya strained to say.

Her mother nodded, "sometimes" Selana thought for a moment, "when was your last moon time?"

"About a month ago" Icaya screamed through the pain.

Selana quickly examined her daughter, frowning she looked at Icaya, "when did you say you last had a bleed?" she questioned again.

"I think it was twenty nine days ago" Icaya finally said. "Why?"

"Icaya, you are blessed, but you are far more than a month gone, you are nearly full term, in fact after feeling the contraction you have just had I would say you are in labour now."

Despite the aching pain, Icaya sat up in shock, "what?" she exclaimed. "But I am too thin to have a baby, look at my stomach; it is as flat as ever it was."

"I know Icaya" Selana agreed, "and if I hadn't felt the size of your baby then I would never had believed that you could be so close, but you are."

Another pain ripped though her, and she felt the urge to push. After her mother helped her remove her leggings, she pushed and strained, crying from shock all the time.

Bephezar realising what was happening, ran to fetch Logan, who came with a look of disbelief on his face, especially when he saw his mate holding a new born baby girl in her arms.


	4. Isala, 2,000BC

Fast down the years we go,

Two thousand years or so,

Until we meet another girl,

One born to a world in a whirl.

For change has finally arrived, its come

The people now worship the sun

And she is part of the greatest plan

The building has at long last began.

--

Isala sat on the raft, watching at the large blue stone was guided down the river. It was one of many, carved from the Preseli mountainsof Walesi, and now travelling down the channel to its ultimate destination.

--

They floated up a stream once they had reached the end of the river, and then came the fun as each blue stone was placed on timbers and rolled the fairly short distance to Salisburi where the great circle was.

For longer than she knew her people had been working on the henge, stories told of how the ancient people had formed a large circle made of wood, though it had rotted away long ago. Now while she and others had been busy cutting the blue stones and transporting them, others had been hard at work digging the great whole that they would be dropped into.

As they came up to the circle, she saw that many of the stones were in place, there was only her stone and a few others and then it would be finished.

"How long have they really been building the henge?" she speculated, "I wonder if it will still be around when I am a grandmother, wouldn't that be fine."

When they reached their assigned hole, she cast aside thought of the future and concentrated on the here and now. She might be a girl, only thirteen years old, but she was strong, and had been chosen to help finish the circle because of this. There was also her healing ability, she couldn't count the number of times she had set bones, sewed up wounds, and given pain numbing medicine since they set off.

"Okay, put the harness on" one of the men shouted.

Isala rushed around the front of the stone, making sure all the rope was securely tied, if those stones fell on any one, they would die. "It is ready to attach the pulley system" she shouted, watching as numerous ropes were attached to the harness.

"Pull" yelled the man, and they all gripped their allotted ropes and started straining against the heavy wait, little by little the stone started to lift until it was no longer horizontal but stand tall like it would soon do for hopefully a long time.

"Push the stone" he bellowed to another group, and soon, the two groups worked together as the stone finally dropped into its hole, and was filled with small stones and earth.

But it wasn't without injury, many had burnt their hands on the ropes and one man's foot had been crushed when the stone didn't quite manage to get straight in the hole.

"Isala" called her mother Rosal, "you deal with the rope burns and I will help Andrar."

Isala nodded, and hurried to get the healing medicines her and her mother had made during the long nights in Walesi. She picked up a bowl with cooling cream in, and some plantain leaves, along with some strips of material.

"Everyone with rope burns come to me" she called and was soon surrounded by red weeping hands. Gently she applied the cream on each wound, and covered them up with the leaves, tying it all in place with the material.

"Isala, I need your help" she heard her mother call.

She rushed over to see her mother holding Andrar's leg as he screamed in agony. "Isala I can't save it, we are going to have to amputate."

Isala swallow hard, of all the tasks that a healer had to do, the most distasteful and the most upsetting was having to cut of a limb. "Okay mother" she said, her voice trembling "what do you need?"

"No, you can't take my foot" Andrar shouted, already delirious.

"I'm sorry Andrar" Rosal tried to calm him, "but if I don't cut it off, then you will get an infection in it, which will mean you would loose your leg, if not your life."

Isala left her mother consoling the man, and dashed back to look through their healing provisions. They would need a strong pain killer, and then an antiseptic wash along with sutures and something to stop the blood and make it clot.

She quickly got the clay pot they used for boiling water and set it over the fire. Then she pulled out six identical but smaller pots and put some leaves into four of them, into the last two she placed a bronze knife and cord made from the intestines of a sheep. She poured the hot water into all the bowls, leaving the leaves to steep while the heat killed any infections that were on the knife and sheep guts.

Her mother came into their hut, supporting Andrar, "is everything ready?" she asked.

Isala nodded, and as her mother help the man to lie down, she transferred the first pot into a cup, and handed it to her mother.

Rosal sniffed the concoction, "henbane tea" she commented, and assisted Andrar to drink it, "this will help, it is for pain relief" she smiled kindly at him.

She let the medicine do its job, and while waiting for the pain relief to kick in she examined the rest of the pots. "This is good Icaya, I am proud of you."

The henbane had seemingly knocked Andrar out, after first checking that his breathing and heart were okay, Rosal after washing her hands in some of the antiseptic marigold wash, slowly took out the knife.

Isala didn't want to view what was to come next, but she knew her mother needed her, and that one day she could be called on to perform the same operation, so she kept her eyes on watching every move her mother made.

Rosal, knowing the knife was sharp started cutting through Andrar's ankle working around the bones. She left a large flap of skin which she would use to cover the wound. When she was finally through she started to sew up his flesh, first she made sure that as much as she could she sewed all the blood vessels together, then the muscles and finally she sewed the flap of skin over it all. She poured liberal amounts of the marigold wash and steeped alfalfa leaves to clot the blood over the wound at each step.

She then started bandaging the wound using iris wash, to draw out any poison, and plantain leaves. Finally she bandaged it all with strips of woven woollen cloth.

"Isala, I want you to make a willow tea for when he comes around" she told her daughter, "I am going to see if anyone else needs me, when he does wake, come and get me."

--

When Andrar finally came around, he immediately started screaming with pain. Isala quickly gave him the willow tea, and then went to find someone who could fetch Rosal.

He was still moaning when she got back into the hut, complaining that it hurt.

"I can still feel my toes" he told her, "has Rosal not done it yet?"

Isala looked sadly at the young man, "I'm sorry Andrar, but your foot is gone."

Andrar quickly pulled back the blanket covering his legs, and stared at the bandaged stump where his foot should have been. "My life is over" he moaned, "I am only seventeen, how am I going to live if I can't walk?"

Isala shook her head, she didn't know what to say, how would she cope if her foot had to cut off she wondered.

Just then Rosal bustled in, and walked up to Andrar, "how are you feeling?" she asked.

"It hurts" he groaned through gritted teeth, "The tea Isala gave me isn't working."

"No, but hopefully it will take the edge of it. Andrar I had to give you henbane tea for the operation, I didn't want to give you anything to strong until that had worked its way out of your system. But you were asleep longer than I thought you would be, I think it will be safe to give you something stronger."

"There is water already boiled" Isala told her helpfully. "Do you want me to put some in a cup?"

"Yes, thank you my daughter" Rosal smiled, and hurried to her medicinal supplies across the other side of the hut away from Andrar's ears. She took out a tiny packet and put a small amount of black seeds in the hot water.

"I have never seen you use those seeds before" Isala commented, curious as to what they were.

"These seeds are from sleep-bringing poppy, but they are very powerful, and must be used wisely, they can prove to be addictive."

"Are they very dangerous?"

"In the wrong hands, these seeds can be very desruptive. In fact they are so hazardous, that they are a secret only for the healers, no one else must know about them. Do you understand Isala? If anyone found out about these seeds and what they can do, it could spell disaster for our people."

When the poppy tea was cool enough to drink Isala took it to the destressed Andrar, and helped him to down the bitter brew. "it will help you to sleep" she promised him, and watched him as he feel into a drug fuelled slumber.

--

Ever so slowly Andrar's wound healed, his pain mostly stopped, but nothing could stop the depression overwhelming him.

"I'm not even a real man any more, I can't hunt, or build, and I won't even be able to walk. You should have just killed me, my life is over anyway" he moaned.

Isala didn't know what to say, she had never met someone with these feelings before. She wondered if cutting his foot off had been for the best, maybe they should have left him to die.

Rosal walked into the hut, she had heard what Andrar had been saying, and could imagine what her daughter was thinking regarding it. "Now Andrar, you are still a man and you have lots to offer."

"What?" he shouted at the woman who had ended his life.

"There are many skills that you could do; you have two strong arms, how about using them?"

"But I am a stone mason that is all I know." He whined.

"Maybe so, but you are still young, you can learn something new" she told him, wanting to get him to think more positively about the future. "Now, I have made you a special tea, it should help you to feel a bit more up beat."

Andrar accepted the cup from Rosal, and drained it in one gulp. "It's not working" he said petulantly.

Rosal shook her head, "it takes time to work" she told him, trying to be patient. She took the cup off him, and hurried out of the hut.

Isala followed her, "what was in the cup mother?" she enquired.

"It is klamath weed, it has a calming effect on the patient, I thought with the way he has been it would be good to make it into a tea" she explained. "Hopefully, it will help him with his depression."

--

The next days and weeks Isala was Andrar's constant companion, when he grew angry about his life, she was there to calm him. When he grew despondent, she was there to cheer him up. In whatever mood he was in, she was always there, a continual part of his life, a friend. And like in cases like that he grew to care deeply for his carer; and those feelings soon deepened into deep abiding love. The feelings were mutual.

--

Andrar's father had made the young man a pair of crutches, which when he was well enough he started using. Isala stayed with him as he laboured to move himself around the uneven grass area.

His friends eager to see him after his prolonged period of seclusion all crowded around him, pushing Isala out of the way and making her fall.

"Oy" he shouted annoyed at his friends, "are you alright Isala?" he asked.

She quickly jumped up of the ground, her pride being the only thing bruised. "I'm fine" she answered brushing off the soil from her clothing.

His friends stared at the young woman, and then saw the look on Andrar's face. One of them started to laugh "I see you haven't lost your eye for the ladies" he smirked.

"Actually, I think I have" Andrar commented, "or at least every woman that isn't Isala."

"Have you decided what you are going to do with your life now that you have lost your, um, your…" another asked.

"My foot?"

"Yeah" the man laughed nervously, trying not to stare at where Andrar's foot was missing.

"I haven't decided yet, though I rather think I am going to have to take up a craft that doesn't need me to move around, I think dancing in the worshipping ceremonies might be out of the question."

"You might be better now" one friend dryly remarked. "It wasn't as if you were any good before any way."

"Ha! Ha! very funny."

"What about pottery?" a girl suggested.

"Do I look like the pottery type?" Andrar asked sardonically.

"You could carve stone still, but small bits. Make animals and people out of them."

"Er, how shall I say this? No!"

"There is always sewing" the girl sniggered.

He ignored that comment.

"You could always try your hand at metal working" Isala put forward, "I would help you."

Andrar smiled at the girl, "yes I think I might try that, though it could be hard getting around with this bum leg."

--

It was the middle of the night; Isala was fast asleep in her bed of straw, dreaming about mating Andrar. The dream had just got to a wonderful part where the holy man was going to declare they were mated, and he would kiss her, when she was rudely awakened by a rough shove.

"What?" she moaned, trying to focus on the bleary face that was before her.

"Wake up Isala, Jaran, the leader is ill and we are needed.

Isala reluctantly pulled back her covers and got dressed. Then she hurried after her mother, and entered Jaran's hut, to see the normally jubilant lively man looking grey and a fraction of his usual self.

"Have you brought the healing supplies?" Rosal asked, though she knew from her daughter's empty hands that she hadn't.

Isala, knowing that Jaran was probably dying felt ashamed of herself. She was a healer and she had failed to remember to fetch the life preserving herbs and plants. "I'm sorry mother, I will go get them" she quietly answered, and hurried to get what was needed. "I must learn to be more organised" she tutored herself as she walk between the two huts.

Rosal in the meantime was busy boiling a pot of water, she worriedly looked at Jaran, he seemed to grow paler by the minute and his coughing though bad for a long time, had recently grown worse, now he was coughing up a pinkish froth, mucus with a bloody streaks in it. As she walked over to him, she noticed his racking hack again; it pained her to see how desperately he tried to still it. She could see every fibre of his being shook with the violentness of the coughing fit he was having.

After his body had calmed down he looked at her with tortured eyes, "am I going to die?" he asked.

What could she say, in all probability he would be dead by the morning, but out of respect for the much loved leader she spoke words meant to calm him, "you are not dead yet, I will do all I can to help you" she promised.

Isala hurried back into the hut, carrying the large woven box that Rosal kept her cures in. "What do you need mother?" she enquired, already searching through the numerous plants within.

"I think I should make a tea with elecampane, watercress and cherry bark, that will help bring up the phlegm, help soothe his lungs, and stop him spitting blood."

Isala nodded, she quickly got what her mother wanted, and gave them to her mother.

Rosal quickly made the tea, and helped Jaran drink it. Tired out he laid back down but his body still quaked from the coughing.

Throughout the rest of the night they stayed with him, but by morning he was gone, back to the gods.

--

Andrar carved out the shape that he wanted in wood. With precision, he carefully cut off the bark and then chiselled off small slivers, until he had tow halves of exactly the contours he wanted. He then used wet sand to rub off any rough bits.

A short walk from his hut he had a furnace, where he had bronze smelting, throwing off burning heat. But to Andrar it was a bit more than a short walk, as he hobbled to it.

Isala carried the wooden cast for him, and helped him pour the scalding metal into it. He then put the top on and tied it with vines and left it to cool in the cooling night air.

The next day he limped back to his furnace, and after taking off the wooden cast, examined the finish product. He buffed it with a soft fur until it gleamed, and knew that it was the best that he had ever made. It was a fitting gift.

--

Andrar held a weeping Isala the day they buried their leader, he had been an old man whose body couldn't hold out against the vicious illness that had befallen it but he had also been an inspiration to all those growing up under his rule, but now with him gone things would change.

Isala watched as they laid his body in a big hole dug deep in the ground in the middle of the circle of stones. It was an appropriate place for the old man to end up in, having had so much involvement in the many years of his life. She watched as Andrar hobbled forward and withdrew something from a piece of cloth, it shimmered in the setting sun.

Anan, the son of Jaran and the new leader took the gift off him, and kneeling down placed it on the dead man's chest.

Piles of soil stood in heaps next to the hole, along with men carrying bronze shovels. Before they started to fill the hole, everyone had the chance to step forward and say their last goodbye to the head of their people.

Isala, wanting to pay her last respects and also curious as to what Andrar had given the dead man, stepped forward and stared at the once enigmatic man lying still in his grave. On his chest was a ceremonial dagger, the finest that she had ever seen.

Long after the burial, when everyone else had gone back to their homes the young couple stood and mourned at the pile of loose soil.

"I'm so sorry" she whispered, "I wish I could have done more for your grandfather."

"You did all you could" he hugged her, and stared into her blue grey eyes. "That's all I could ask for."

--

Just before dawn on midsummer's day, all dresssed in white with flowers in her hair Isala walked into the middle of the stone circle where all the maidens and their intendeds were gathered. It was a mystic day that only came once a year on that day.

"Children, we welcome this special day with the gift to the gods of our young people, who cast aside their childhoods and enter the adult world of matirmony" the holy man shouted, his voice echoing around the circle.

Isala stepped up next to Andrar and gripped his hand, after a quick hug they turned back to listen in reverence ernece to the pious prophet.

"Young men do you take your young woman to adore, console, respect and defend as long as you both shall breathe?" he intoned.

"We will" came the collective response.

"And young women do you take your young man to adore, console, respect and support as long as you both shall breathe?"

"We will" the young women cried.

"Repeat after me, we make our declarations to one another to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

The crowd of young people copied his words.

At that very moment, the sunrise started and as light hit the surface of the heel stone, it cast its shadow across the circle and through the vulvar arch to encounter the womb stone.

"And as the gods of the circle put you together, and demonstrate your fruitfulness through the symbolic representation of the summer solstice, may your union produce much love and children that will bless our children."

Isala stared at the large shadow, and suddenly was taken into herself as the gods sent her a vision of her future descendant, a young woman called Misala.


	5. Misala, 1,000BC

Misala had always been jealous of her older sister, when she had been out in the field, under the burning sun, Isabela was being primped and preened, when Misala had to help look after the farms animals, Isabela had the choicest food brought to her, when Misala slept on a bed of straw with a rough blanket to keep her warm, Isabela had a feather mattress and fine silk sheets. Isabela had never been beaten, or hungry beyond despair, Isabela had been pampered all her life.

But as Misala stood in the stone circle, listening to the high pitch singing, she no longer felt envious, she was sorry for her sister, she who had been treated like a princess all her life. It was Isabela's fourteenth birthday; she wouldn't get a cake and see the happy faces of her friends and family sing to her. Isabela had been born for a higher purpose and today, that purpose would be realised.

Misala stood at the back watching as her pretty golden haired sister walked sedately up to the stone. She was dressed all in white, and festooned with gold gem encrusted jewellery. On her head was a coronet of sparking diamonds.

The man was waiting for her there, holding the gift that she would soon receive. For a moment, Misala saw her waver, and struggle to get away, and Misala wished with all her heart that things could be different. She wished that Isabela had been a normal girl, that she had been able to share in her sister's work, and play instead of watching with carefully guarded eyes that couldn't quite hide the jealousy that Isabela held for her sister's life.

Misala, caught up in her thoughts didn't realise that the moment had arrived, as the man towered over Isabela, who even now was looking for Misala, her eyes full of pleading. Misala saw a flash of silvery light, as the ceremonial knife plunged into her sister's chest and the man pulled out her still beating heart.

Isabela had been born to be sacrificed to the gods, one of the many firstborn raised each year for this purpose, they were elevated as royalty to be sacrificed on their fourteen birthday so that the Celts would continue to rule over this land.

A single tear fell down Misala's cheek as she thought of all that she and her sister could have shared, of the lives they could have had if Isabela had not been chosen.

--

Many years had past since her sister had been sacrificed to the gods. She had been to many more ceremonies where her people's children were given to protect their way of life, those chosen didn't differentiate in gender, male or female, they were all first borns who were surrendered up to the higher beings on their fourteenth birthdays.

But like many around her, as the only way that life could go on, Misala put these sacrifices to the back of her brain, and got on with her life, and it was good, she had just mated her childhood sweetheart, whose own older twin had been given to the gods. They lived in their own hut, and she had just realised that she was expecting her first child.

She woke up, her stomach riotously disobeying her; she needed to be sick she knew she had to be, but the night basket was brimming with excrement already, making her sickness even worse. She rushed outside, and just managed to get to the line of the trees when her throat forced out the remains of the food she had eaten the day before. She tried to hold her hair out of the way, but some of it managed to find its way in the stream, and was covered in a yellow scum.

"Urh" she groaned, staring at the contents of her stomach only moments before.

When her empty tummy finally stopped trying to force the retching, she wiped her mouth and sat back on her heels.

"Are you alright my dear?" a woman asked and gently led her to the healers' hut. "To be sick so early in the morning can usually only mean only one thing, are you expecting a blessed event?"

Misala smiled in despite of how her stomach was still griping, for a second she forgot how ill she felt as she imagined what the small child would look like. She hugged herself and didn't need to tell the old healer anything as her goofy smile told all she needed to know.

"Here, wash yourself" she told Misala, "and then nibble on this ginger biscuits, it will make you feel much better. I have something to do, so if you will please excuse me" she continued and hurried out of the hut.

Misala soon felt clean, and her stomach's quakes stilled. When the healer came back she felt much better and gave her a bright smile. "Thank you" she said, "I am grateful to you."

The woman nodded, though if Misala had been her usual self, she would have realised that the woman looked rather uncomfortable.

"You had better go back to your young man" she told her, "I'm sure he is wondering where you are."

Misala grinned thinking about her wonderful mate, "yeah I had better get back, thank you for your help."

The old woman waved away the thanks and as she watched the pregnant woman leave her hut, sorrow filled her eyes. "I'm sorry" she mumbled.

--

"What exactly was said?" her mate, Michel asked when she got back. "She knows about the baby, and she left you on your own for a while. That's it, they are going to select our child to be a sacrifice." He said this with great emotion, having lost not only his twin, but also his mother's sister to the tradition.

"Calm down" Misala cautioned him, "they don't take every first born, you yourself have told me that your father was a first born, but was never chosen. There is still hope."

"I suppose you are right" he agreed with her, "but I don't want to loose any more of my family to those Celts. Many might have taken on their religion and culture, but I remain loyal to the old gods, and they never demanded the sacrifice of people."

"I know, and I don't hold with that way of life either, but what can we do? They are in charge, they are everything and we are nothing, insignificant, and used as fodder for their gods."

"If they do choose our baby, I say that we run away. Head to the coast, I heard tales of the people on the east coast, they don't follow the Celtic way of living, but live more like our ancesters, honouring the gods by the sacrifice of food."

"Then we will go there" she promised him, "but I don't want to leave unless we need to. It would be dangerous for me to travel in my condition, I would rather stay here, but if it is the choice of our baby staying alive, or being given over to those horrible gods, well you already know which way I will choose."

Michel smiled, "I know very well what course of action you would follow my love, but as you say they might not choose the babe, everything might be okay. One thing though don't say to anyone what we plan, because if it comes to us fleeing, then we don't want them knowing our scheme."

--

Life carried on as near as normal as those who were under such uncertainty. There was no real reason to change their lives, not unless the worse happened and they were confronted with the reality of their child being chosen.

Misala continued to ply her trade; she was a cook, a nutritionist and often the people would come to her for advice about what food was healthy.

Misala sat in her hut working on a loom. She was making the material that would eventually be turned into an outfit for her baby. She heard a tap on the door, and looked up just as a young woman carrying a listless child on her hip hurried in.

"Misala can you help me?" she asked, "Tricie here hadn't been very well recently, she pale, she is tired all the time and she has been having trouble emptying her bowels."

"Marcie, what have you been feeding her?" Misala asked, looking in the little girl's eyes. "Is she getting enough fruit and vegetables, enough grains?"

"I haven't got any of those things left" explained Marcie, her face red, showing that she was ashamed to have to admit to her bad management of her home. "It is too early in the season to go and gather any. The harvest is too far off." She paused for a moment, and then added, "I have been giving her extra milk from our cow hoping that will make up for the lack of greens."

Misala pursed her lips, "did you not store your fruit and vegetables at the end of winter?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"I did Misala, I really did" Marcie started to cry, "but it wasn't enough. Oh what have I done to my little girl?"

Misala, compassion running through her, put her arm around the sobbing mother, "it is alright Marcie, don't upset yourself, she will be just fine. I will give you some of our greens."

Horror and embarrassment filled the young woman's eyes, "oh I don't want you to have to go without, you need your reserves for yourself, because you're pregnant, aren't you?"

"Yes Marcie, I am having a baby, but we have got a plentiful supply of food all stored away, enough for ourselves, and to share with many others. You are not the first mother that has run out of the necessaries, I have had many women and men come to me throughout the years with your problem, and my mother before me." She smiled at the teary woman, "now dry your eyes and I will get you some food to share amongst your family today. Then I want you to come each day, until the season is along enough that you can gather what you need."

"Oh how can I thank you?" Marcie sighed with happiness as Misala went to her storage area.

"You can store more when it comes to late summer, and then if someone is in your position you can help them like I have helped you." Misala handed a basket brimming with packets of grains, fruit and vegetables. "I will see you tomorrow" she grinned, and just watch I bet that little one of yours will be as lively as she has always been before too long."

--

Life also carried on for Michel, he was a skilled man, and the gift he excelled in was carpentry. He loved the feel of the wood in his hands, and he had made many items of furniture, much which was now owned by his people.

Now in his work shop, he stared at a block of wood, still covered in bark. He desperately wanted to start working on it, but was unsure on whether he should or not.

For a split second he wavered, and then started carving off the outside of the wood. This was a special piece of furniture, one that he would carve, not saw into pieces to bolt together.

Many hours later, he stood back and admired his handiwork. "I just hope that we get to use it" he sighed as he stared at the crib.

--

Misala, knowing that soon they might have to leave their people, had decided that she wanted to expand her knowledge of plants as a nutritional source, to encompass healing.

She walked into the old woman healer's hut; "I know it was you that told them I was pregnant" she started.

The old woman looked around in dismay, "I am sorry, I had to tell them, if I hadn't then they would have taken away my right to be a healer. It is all I have left, my mate is dead, and my children are either dead or gone, I have noting left, only my skill, and the needs of the people that I can meet."

Misala felt sorry for the old woman, she had never really held her betrayal against her, it was the time that they lived in that was to blame. But nevertheless, she wanted some sort of resolution from the old woman. "Mara, I want you to teach me, I want to be as good a healer as you."

--

Misala's pregnancy progressed, as her stomach grows. It was now obvious to all that saw her that she was having a child and she realised that soon a decision would be made about the child's fate. And Mara had taught her all she knew and with practise was becoming a proficient healer.

--

"I have called you to this meeting to discuss the child that Misala is carrying. We need to decide if the baby is going to be a chosen one."

The leaders and holy men and women all muttered at this, Misala and her mate Michel were popular amongst their people, and everyone knew that they had already lost much thorough the sacrifice of the chosen ones, many were wondering if any more could be asked of them.

"They have both lost siblings to the sacrifices, I don't think we should ask them to give up their child as well" shouted an old woman.

"Misala helps our people so much, if we take her child will she be able to continue being the provider that she is?" a man questioned.

"Yeah, only recently she has giving to those who have run out of the essentials, she is an asset to our people, how can she give, and then we ask for more?"

"It doesn't matter if they are good people, or loved, it only matters what the gods want, and who they want" a holy man stepped forward. "But do they demand the sacrifice of the child's life?"

"The gods require the life of this baby" a holy woman stood up, her eyes fixed on something not there, "they cannot be denied. The child must be consecrated to them, and on their fourteenth birthday sacrificed for the good of the people."

Many nodded their heads at the proclamation of the seer, it was settled, the babe belonged to the gods.

--

Michel, listening outside the meeting hut, heard all that had been said, and he knew that it was time to flee. He hurried off to find his mate, finding her at their home.

"They have decided; they are going to take our child" he said as he walked through the door, "we have to go now."

--

Michel, fearing that things would not turn out right for them, had already stowed a cart filled with supplies in the next valley, buried within the foliage of a bush. Now they only had to sneak out with a horse and they could be away.

In the middle of the night, near the goddess hour, they crept out of their hut taking a meagre supply of their belongings with them.

When they got to the already tacked horse, they started to lead her out of the village, Misala stroking the horse's nose and uttering soothing words with each step to make sure she stayed calm and didn't give them away.

The village was a tiny mark in the distance, and knowing that it was now much safer; they both climbed on the mare and started galloping towards the hidden cart.

Once there, they attached the horse to the cart and got as far away as they possible could, travelling throughout the night and the next day.

--

The next day a delegation from the meeting arrived at the hut of Misala and Michel with pomp and ceremony. It was considered to be a great honour if your child was a chosen one.

The female seer, whose proclamation the night before had sealed the child's fate, knocked on their door. When she received no answer and the door didn't open, she forced herself in.

"Noooooooo" she screamed when she realised that many of their belongings were gone, "they have run away."

The crowd behind her gasped, it had never been known for a chosen child to be stolen away, the declaration from the gods had been made, they child belonged to the gods.

The old woman seer seethed with anger, she was angry that they had got away that much was true, but her fury was deeper than that, she had always hated Misala, her own daughter had been in love with Michel. She had hoped that they would mate, and then Misala had come along, captivating the man with her womanly body and had stolen him away from her child. That was a slight that she wasn't willing to forget and had planned long ago that as soon as Misala was pregnant, that she would proclaim the youngster as sacrosanct to the gods, even if the gods had other plans for the infant. That was what she had done the night before, she had made out that the gods had demanded the baby, but the child was only really her chosen one.

"We have to go after them" she shouted, howling in her rage.

--

Misala sat in the cart enjoying the feel of the wind in her hair as they travelled along at break neck speed. It felt so wonderful to be free, free of the confines of her people, free of the constant fear and free of the corruptness of a people who would murder their children to further their lives and those around them.

It was now their second day of travelling, they had stopped the night before, camping and living off the land. They had many supplies with them, but Misala knew that the best nutrition she could have was fresh food.

Michel had even laid aside his carpentry tools and picked up a bow and arrow, and had brought back to the temporary camp site, a couple of rabbits.

Now, as Misala rested in the cart, she drew out a piece of material that she had already cut into shape. She started to sew; making sure each shaky needle entry was made into a tight order row of stitches.

Michel, holding the reigns of the horse looked at what she was making with interest.

"It is an outfit for the baby" she told him, "I couldn't leave it behind."

Michel smiled at her, he hadn't been able to leave the little crib he had made for their child, and it was in the back of the cart covered up with a sheet of material. She had already asked what it was, and he suspected that she had guessed, but he had asked her not to look, it was a surprise.

"Do you think they will come after us?" she asked looking up from her sewing, "I mean you said that it was the witch that had proclaimed our baby's demise, and you know how much she hates me, do you think she will just let us get away?"

"I don't know" he answered not wanting to worry her, though he was pretty sure that they would be followed. He had spent much of that day, as well as the day before, looking for the distinctive dust caused by the galloping feet of a large group of horses. "I hope not" he muttered under his breath.

Misala didn't really need an answer, she already knew, there was no way that old woman would let them get away. She was probably even then thundering behind them on a horse, a seething one woman bundle of anger.

--

Misala couldn't have been more wrong, for at that moment, the witch was in the meeting house trying to convince everyone they should go after the escaping duo.

"Maybe your proclamation was wrong" one of the leaders was saying, "maybe their going is a sign that things must change, we have all lost children, maybe it is time to outlaw that practise, and let the first borns live and contribute to our society as the gods' will."

The witch turned purple with rage, "my proclamation wrong" she screamed her voice growing higher and louder with each word, "how dare you? You know nothing; they should be brought back and punished for trying to escape the gods. We can't change the will of the gods, they demand sacrifices, if we stopped giving them the children, then our way of life would end, because of our own stupidity."

Many agreed with her, but many had had enough of the regime and the young couple fleeing was a sign that the old ways were wrong, if they wanted to survive then they must change or they would loose more people and families and eventually dwindle into nothing.

One of the leaders of their society stood up, "no, we have given up our children for too long and what for? You say the gods demand them, but I am not so sure, wouldn't the sun continue to rise and the sea roar, wouldn't the grass continue to grow and the rain descend on us? No, we will have an end to the practise, and no one will follow Misala and Michel, they have a different path to walk."

"Well l will go after them" the witch shouted, indignant in her rage.

"No you won't, they are to be left alone to live their own lives."

"You can't stop me, I will do the gods' will even if everyone else refuses to" she yelled, so loud that the rafters rattled and the birds perching in them flew away in terror.

"Janas, Pelas" the leader called and two burly men walked into the meeting. The witch, I want you to bind her hands and take her to the punishment hut, guard it and don't let her out." He watched as she was led away. "We will have to decide what to do with her later."

--

The witch sat in the hut and stared out past the guards to freedom, she would have her way, and her way was to go after the two absconding young people. She had a plan, they hadn't searched her when they had tossed her in there and about her person she had a root that once burned could make her guards fall asleep.

"It is a bit cold in here, can I not come out and warm myself on your fire?" she called out to guards.

"Should we let her out? She might try something" one of them asked the other one.

"What can she do? She is an old woman; even if she tried to run away we could easily overpower her."

"Okay" the first man shouted, "you can come out, but don't try anything funny."

The witch hurried over to the fire, her head buried in a cloak. The root in her hand, when they had their head turned for a moment she tossed it into the fire and held her breath.

"Within seconds the root burned to nothing and expelled the vapour and the guards fell into a harmless sleep.

"Valerian" she laughed as she hurried away from the village, "it gets them every time."

--

Misala sat at the side of a stream, a fishing line in her hands. She knew that fish was very good for the body, especially one producing a child and yearned for the delicious meat. Michel sat next to her, quietly fishing too. They didn't talk, that would alert the fish to their presences, but they communicated by knowing looks and smiles.

She felt a pull on her line, and started to wheel the line in, a large silver bream; she threw it in a basket on the bank and after putting another worm on the hook, cast the fishing line back into the water.

Soon they had enough fish to feed them for a couple of days, and both of them got to work skinning and gutting them. Then she placed them on hot stones in their fire, and let them cook.

While they ate their evening meal, she thought about the days that they had been in flight. In the seven days since they had left their village, there had been no sight of anyone following them, and she was starting to believe that they were safe.

"How long to we get to the people who follow the old ways?" she asked her mate.

Michel contemplated how far they had come; they had covered a lot of ground, far more than would have been possible if they had had to walk. Still they had some way to go until they saw the east coast and the sea. "I think we should arrive there in a few days" he said, "no more than a week."

--

The witch followed the trail the fleeing duo had left, she rode on a horse that she had stolen from the next village and she knew that she was gaining on them, for each time she found their tracks it was a bit fresher.

She urged the tired horse on, spit speckled its flank from the speed she made it go and the weight it had to carry. But she was without mercy, and rode it all the more, only thinking of the couple and the sacrificial baby.

"She can't have long to go now" she mused, thinking of how she would stalk them once she found them, and then take the child as soon as it was born. "I will make sure that the gods get their sacrifice" she cackled, "only they will get a baby instead of a new adult."

--

Misala woke in the night, feeling a tugging in her body, it was an ache, one she had never felt before, though it was reminiscent of needed to empty her bowels. She lay in her bedding for a moment, as the pain dissipated, and then felt a rush of liquid between her legs.

"Michel" she called, but he was not there. From the light starting to filter through the tent she realised that it wasn't the middle of the night, it was very early morning.

"Michel" she called again, "I need you, the baby is coming."

She noticed his hunting equipment was gone; and groaned as she remembered the plans he had made the night before to go hunting early so that he could replenish their supply of meat.

She needed him now, but he wasn't around, she would have to make the best of it.

After the next contraction ripped through her, more painful this time, she arose out of her bedding, throwing them to one side and grabbed a clean blanket that she put in its place. Then she walked out to the smouldering fire and quickly lit it again. She put a pot of water over it to heat, and looked through her belongings for the pain relieving herbs that the healer had taught her about, stopping as more contractions brought her body to a standstill.

Eventually she had managed to make a cup of pain relieving skullcap and valerian tea laced with honey that she was now sipping. This combination would help her with anxiety, nervous tension, as well as easing muscle spasms and giving her pain relief she needed so badly. It would also sedate her without stupefying her. Most important of all, given her present situation of being without any help, it would slow the labour down, making it more a possibility that Michel would be back from hunting before the baby came.

--

She had found them, that morning she had watched as Michel left the camp site with weapons, obvious in his desire to spend the day hunting. She had been very interested when she had seen Misala hoping out of the tent, holding her belly, and stopping to bend over with pain.

"She is in labour" she said to herself with self satisfaction. "It won't be long."

--

Misala spent her day, trying to carry out the chores that she needed to do. She stayed at the camp, knowing that if the baby came when she was out gathering then a wild animal could steal it from her. She knew she had to stay close to the tent that would afford her and the child some protection. But she wished that Michel would hurry up and get back, for she knew that the labour was getting closer and closer.

Not long after noon, the contractions changed, coming much faster and more painful, and she knew it was time. She made her way to the tent and sat down on the blanket she had put down that day, and in-between the contractions sipped the pain relieving tea.

Another contraction ripped through her, and she felt the urge to push, "Michel, help me" she screamed, "please someone help me."

As she was bearing down, and the baby started moving out of the birth channel, as if by magic an old lady appeared by her legs. Misala was too out of it by then with the tea and the pain of the contraction, she didn't recognise the witch.

"Push Misala" the witch urged her, hands itching to get her hands on the babe.

Misala closed her eyes and grunted as she pushed and pushed. She felt an intense pain between her legs as the baby's head ripped out of her, followed soon by the rest of its body.

Weary beyond belief, Misala didn't really hear the woman's cackle, as she snatched the child up from where it had been born onto the blanket. "It is a girl Misala" she said, "and she is mine."

Something in the woman's voice filtered through to her brain, and then after opening her eyes, she recognised the witch holding her baby.

"Give me my child" she begged, her arms reached out in supplication.

"She belongs to the gods" the witch smirked, "and that is where she is going" and she pushed open the tent flap and went out, carrying the new born infant.

Misala, tried to follow her, crawling behind her, she succumbed to unconsciousness.

--

When she came to, for a second she wondered what she was doing on the ground, and then as pain gripped her the memory of the witch stealing her child came back to her.

She looked for the witch and wondered how long it had been since she had passed out. From the position of the sun in the sky, she could tell that it was only early afternoon; it had only moved a small amount to the west.

"I have got to find them" she muttered to herself, but as she stood up, blood flowed down her legs. She felt incredible weak, but super human strength seemed to come upon her as she knew that if she didn't find them soon, the witch would murder the child.

She quickly pulled on a pair of leggings, ignoring the gripping pain that still ran through her, after pains she knew. Next to the bloody blanket she had birthed her child on, she saw her placenta, but didn't have time to bury it. Strangely she couldn't even remember it coming out.

Just as she was about to start stumbling after the woman, she heard a bush rustle, and expecting to see the wicked female was astounded and extremely happy to see her mate Michel.

"Quick" she shouted, not caring that she looked a mess. "The witch has been here and she has stolen the baby."

"But…" Michel stuttered, and then with realisation continued, "the baby has arrived?"

"Yes, but she has taken her, we need to find her before that mad woman kills our child" she exclaimed, tears flowing down her bloody face.

"No" he told her, "you go and rest, I will find them, you sort yourself out. You are no use to our daughter like you are."

Misala regrettably agreed, and after taking the meat that her mate had killed, went back into the tent.

Michel with stoicism set off, following the heavy tracks that the witch had made.

Misala quickly buried the afterbirth and then started to skin and cut up the animal. This done, she put it over the fire to roast, and went to have a wash in the river.

As she entered the cooling waters, she hoped that he would find them, as she rubbed soaproot saponin-filled lather into her hair; she hoped that the baby would be okay, as she dried herself she hoped that they would be back soon. And as she dressed, she hoped that the old woman would never bother them again.

--

Many hours later, just as the sun had retired and Misala could stand the tension no longer, Michel walked back into the camp, carrying a bundle. Misala rushed forward fearing that the baby was dead but happy to see a little arm wriggle out of its blanket.

"She is alright?" she asked, joyfully putting her arms out to hold the babe. She felt the bundle put into her arms and stared at the young girls blue eyes. "She is beautiful" she sighed.

"Just like her mum" Michel laughed, putting his arms protectively around his family.

They stood in hat position for a long time, Misala exuberant to have her child in her arms, and Michel just glad that everything had turned out so well.

"So what happened?" she asked, breaking the hug and staring up at him.

"I think you should sit down" he said, "and then I will tell you all that happened."

Misala sat on an upturned tree that Michel had dragged in front of the fire the day before. She placed the whimpering child to her breast and was gratified to feel her start to suckle. Then she turned towards her mate and waited for him to tell his story.

"When I left you I followed the witch's tracks" he told her, "she is an old woman so she isn't particularly light on her feet and she left a distinctive trail. I followed her easily."

Misala nodded, she knew exactly what he meant.

"She was obviously trying to throw anyone off who was following her as her tracks meandered around, backwards and forwards, side to side, through a stream, a poorer tracker would have been lost, they would never had found her." His chest puffed up with pride, he continued, "but I learnt tracking from the best and I pursuing her found it was trouble-free."

Misala smiled, she had realised already that he was an excellent tracker, much better than her.

"Eventually I found her" he looked at Misala, "I'm sorry, you will find this hard, she had our child laid out on a rock, like the slaughter stone, and she was about to sacrifice her" tears prickled his eyes as he continued. "I didn't let her know I was there, but crept up behind her, just as she was bringing the knife down to our precious baby's chest, I managed to stop her, the child is unharmed, I pinned her arms behind her, and forced her away from our daughter."

"Oh no, you didn't get hurt did you?" Misala asked.

"Only a scratch" Michel conceded, "I wouldn't mind some of your antiseptic salve later to put on it."

"I will get it now" she said, starting to stand up.

"Do you not want to know the rest of the story?" he asked her.

Misala wavered between her need to heal him and wanting to hear if the horrible woman was still a danger to them, but the healer in her won, and she hurried to the tent bringing back her a colourful cloth bag filled with ointments, herbs and leathers for bathing and bandaging.

When she approached him, she placed a blanket over his lap and put the baby there. Then she started to take his shirt of, realising that he had far more than a scratch. She peeled the dried blood encrusted shirt sleeve of him.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were so badly injured when you got back?" she admonished him as she started to clean the still weeping cut with an marigold ointment from a wooden bowl. The cut was deep, though it didn't seemed to be bleeding that much. "Should I sew it together?" she wondered, and decided that as a course of action that would be wise.

There was already a pot of water, boiling over the fire, she poured some of it into a bowl and added some dried marigold leaves and a needle and twine to soak.

"Michel, I am going to sew this wound up, I will make you some tea to help with the pain" she informed him, shaking her head at his look of fear. "A grown man like you, and you are afraid of a needle" she muttered to herself.

She quickly transferred some of the hot water into another bowl, adding some chamomile leaves to it to steep.

"Why don't you tell me the rest of your tale" she instructed him, "we have to wait for the tea to cool, and the marigold liquid to disinfect the sewing kit."

Michel nodded, glancing down at the small child contentedly asleep in his lap; he smiled at the sight of her sucking her thumb. "I got the witch away from our baby, and she scratched me…" He saw his mate questionably looking at him. "Okay, she cut me, we struggled, and she tried to force me over the side of a hill, a cliff really, but she stumbled and fell herself. I just picked up our child and got away from that place."

"So you don't know if she is dead?"

"She has got to be, surely she couldn't survive a fall of that cliff, it was too high" he told her.

Misala smiled, though she didn't like having joy at someone's death, at least the old woman could cause them no further trouble. "That tea should be cool enough now" she said, and got up and brought it to him. "Drink it all" she instructed him.

As he drank the tea, she filled a plate full of meat and vegetables, giving it to him she said, "the tea will take a few minutes to take effect, you might as well eat before I sew it up."

She filled another plate with food and sat watching her mate, their child on his lap as he ate, the red angry cut arm still seeping some blood.

When they had both finished, she took his plate off him and after washing her hands in some of the marigold liquid, picked up the needle and thread some of the twine through its eye. She then started to sew up his arm, making a neat line. She used liberal amounts of the liquid, making sure the wound was well covered, inside and out. Once she was done, she covered it with plantain leaves and then bound it with leather, tying it with some wool material to keep it secure.

The child started to whimper again, so Misala picked her up and placed her to her breast, enjoying the feel of the small child suckling.

"What will you call her?" he queried.

"I think she should be called Samara, it means protected" she smiled, "if that is okay with you?"

"I think it is a wonderful name, and may our little girl always be protected against any that might want to hurt her."

--

They spent the next week recovering from the injury and getting over the birth, most of all getting to know their small daughter. But eventually they knew that they had to carry on in their travels, winter would be coming and they didn't want to be outside for that.

After a few days travel, they arrived at the east coast and Misala seeing the sapphire sparkle of the sea up ahead, was eager to paddle in the cool water.

She gave Samara to Michel, and then running down to the beach, threw off her shoes and ran across the golden sands and entered the ebbing time, revelling in the chill of the water as it rush over her feet, wetting her knees.

"This is wonderful" she shouted at her mate, her hair flying in her face from the wind.

Michel watched his beautiful mate innocently cupping handfuls of water, and throwing them in the air, screaming with joy as it fell back down to earth, wetting her in the process.

"Look at your silly mummy Samara" he whispered to the blue eyed babe. "Isn't she funny."

Across the beach, standing on a hill, a woman watched the small family.

--

The woman hurried to the family, she knew that she had to get them off the beach, she had seen the baby, and knew what its fate would be unless she got them to safety.

Misala saw the woman running towards them, for a moment she thought it was the witch, back to do more damage but then she realised that this woman was much younger, and she had a look of terror on her face.

"You shouldn't be here" she said as she reached them, "the baby isn't safe, they will give her to the gods if they manage to catch her, and you two as well, probably."

Misala looked around her, expecting to see sadistic men running at them, there was no one.

"What do you mean?" asked the ever practical Michel.

"The Celts, they live over the hill, they always kill any children that are not their own" she said with tears in her eyes, convincing Misala that someone she loved had suffered that fate.

Misala's face fell, they were fleeing the Celts, they hadn't expected to find them here. "I thought you said that there are a people that live here, that live the old ways?" she accused her mate.

Before Michel could respond, he was interrupted by the woman.

"You are looking for the Selodona?" she asked, "then you have found them, I am a member of those people, come if we hurry and are quiet we can get to our home safely."

Misala looked at Michel, who merely shrugged, and they followed her, in their cart.

Soon they arrived at the bottom of a hill, and they saw a village very like their own, but in its defensive position at the top of sheer slopes, it was safety personified.

"How will we get up there?" Misala asked, thinking off the horse and cart most of all, she didn't want to leave her possessions behind after bringing them so far.

"I will send some of the men down to hide the cart and bring the horse and your belongings up, but for now we must make sure that your child is safe, they could come at any time" she warned.

Michel carried Samara up the steep slope, while Misala her hands free struggled up it. When they were about half way up, they were confronted by some men, who were guarding the hill fort. When the woman, who they still didn't know the name off, told them what was happening, a couple walked down the hill to the horse and cart, while a couple more accompanied them up the hill, one helping Misala negotiate the difficult climb.

When they reached the top, they saw that the top of the hill had been levelled out, and the village was much bigger than their old one, it was massive, filled with all those who had fled the tyranny of the Celts' sacrificial regime.

"Hello" a man approached them, his hands raised in greeting, "I am Selandar of the Selodona, I see you have met my mate Lacie, I just wanted to bid you welcome to our people and tell you that you can stay as long as you want, and even become one of us, if that is what you desire."

--

A figure staggered down the hill, coming into the man's eye line. He noticed that they were favouring one leg and was obviously hurt. He whistled to inform the other guards about the intruder and then walked forward to meet her.

"Who are you?" he shouted, "what do you want?"

The old woman looked up at him, "I am Talani, the witch of Salisbury moor and if you are the Celts of this shore, then I need your help."

"If you know who we are, why have you come here? He questioned, "you must know that we sacrifice visitors to the gods."

The witch pulled herself up to her full height, an intimidating figure, even with her injuries. "I think that I have more to offer the gods alive than dead. I have been tracking a couple, fleeing from my people. They have just had a baby and refuse to hand her over for sacrifice. It was the father that gave me these wounds" she indicated the large bruise on the side of her head.

The guard stiffened at this statement, "our spiritual leader will want to see you" he said "this couple are an abomination to the gods; he will want to hear more, and be involved in capturing these flouters of the law."

--

Misala sighed with happiness; this group were a people after her own heart, a people she had only dreamt of. But here she was secure, within their fold.

"We are an old people" Selandar told them, "our stories go back through history, a long way back. We have tales that tell of a great volcano that caused our ancestors to flee their lands, and even further back ones that tell of great floods. Our earliest story, and most treasured, sacred of all tells of a young woman who transversed a continent to live with the people of her love, a woman who is the spiritual mother of us all."

--

The witch stood before the leader of the Celts, a triumphant grin on her face. She had told him all about Misala, and had found out that one of their scouts had seen a small family; she was living in a hill fort. The leader had agreed to attack the people who live there.

"It is time that they knew that their ways are wrong" she said, after hearing about how the Selodona refused to follow the ways of the gods. "We will make them suffer, especially Misala and her family."

"Yes" the leader smirked back at her, "we will have war."

--

It was early morning, Misala was wrapped up in her bedding, snuggling her mate on one side and her child on the other. Dreamily she thought about her life, "if only mother had come here when Isabela was born, she would be alive now" she mused sadly.

Her melancholy thoughts were interrupted by loud shouting, and a barrage of unsettling thuds on the hut she was in.

"What's going on?" Michel asked sleepily as Samara started to cry. "What's that noise?" he questioned now alert.

"I don't know, but I don't like the sound of it" she commented, trying to soothe the screaming Samara.

Michel hurried to the door of the hut and peeked outside, he turned back to her horror in his face, "we are being attacked" he told her.

"What?" she cried, hardly able to comprehend what he was saying.

"There is a group of people down the hill, they are fighting with the good people that took us in, and" he stopped in mid sentence, looking like he didn't want to continue what he had been saying.

"And what?" she queried impatiently.

"And the witch is in front of them, leading them on. She has come for us Misala, she has come for Samara."

Terror ripped through her as visions of her sister's murder fill her head, "no" she cried, hugging her child to her, "I won't let them have you."

As they were deciding what to do, how to escape, they heard knocking on the wooden door frame, and in rushed a agitated Lacie.

"Come, she shouted above the roar of the fight that was so close, "we are all gathering in the communal hut, it is stronger and more difficult to attack, these are the Celts I told you about, but although they have attacked us before they have never managed to get into that hut, you will be safe there."

The small family hurried after the frightened woman and soon found themselves surrounded by the good people of the Selodona as they sheltered from the hate of the Celts.

--

The fight down the hill wasn't going so well, not for the Celts anyway. They had thought that coming so early in the morning that they would have caught the Selodona by surprise but the guards had been ready and waiting for them, as if they had been forewarned.

Now as they fought hand to hand battle with them, they knew that they couldn't win; they were loosing too many men.

Just as the leader was about to call them to fall back, one of the guards stepped forward and thrust his sword through the man's chest, he was dead before he hit the ground.

The Celts stared at their fallen leader, the witch shouted at them to keep fighting, but the battle had gone from them. With sorrow they picked up the body of the dead leader and throwing their weapons on the ground in disgust, they deserted the witch and went back to their people.

"No" screamed the witch, knowing that she had lost again. As she stomped back to the Celts' camp, she planned how they could defeat the hill people, and get her hands back on the child.

When they got back to the home of the Celts, the death of the leader was greeted with dismay.

"It is her fault" the mate of the fallen leader pointed at the witch, "she led us where the gods didn't want us to be, they demand her blood, I demand her life, she should be sacrificed."

The witch sneered tat the woman, misjudging how important she was.

"You are right" the men shouted and surrounding the witch led her to the stone set aside for sacrifice.

"Our leader shouldn't have listened to you" her executioner stated, "you are a bad woman, and an evil that the gods want dismissed from this world. Your blood belongs to the gods. Prepare to meet them and account for your wicked ways."

"No" she screamed in terror as the silver knife flashed down and did to her what she had sentenced done to many children.

"She is dead" the man shouted as he held aloft her heart.

--

Michel tiptoed away from the bushes where he had just witnessed the gory death of the witch, he didn't like to glory in the death of another but for his family's sake he was glad that she was dead.

As he reached the scene of the morning battle, he hurried past the dead bodies of the Celts and ran to the communal hut where Misala and Samara were waiting for him.

"She is gone Misala" "they sacrificed her to the gods."

Misala heard his words, but she also heard other voices, one of her sister who was finally had the retribution she needed for her own death, and one of a girl who would live in a better place, a better world in the future because of this day.


	6. Emala, 55BC

Emala wandered along the cliff, staring out to sea. She loved the feeling that the fresh air gave her, and longed to climb down the little pathways only known to her. She revelled in adventure and the feeling that she was doing something her people wouldn't like.

That morning, the sea was calm, though the sky was dark, grey like it was trying to forewarn the inhabitants of the land that something was going to happen, that something so different was coming and life would never be the same again.

Emala shuddered at her morbid contemplations, her mother was always moaning that she spent too much time day dreaming, little did she know hat the thoughts that writhed through Emala's head were ones of contemplating what life really was, what was its meaning, its philosophy.

As she sat down she saw something white far out a sea, straining her eyes she realised that it wasn't an enigma, one of those things that lived out in the sea and tempted the land dwellers, it was a sail and it was heading this way.

"They are here" she shouted, and ran along the coastal road until she reached her village. She burst into the communal hut, disrupting a meeting, but ignored the angry faces that turned towards her

"Mother" she cried, "they are here, the Romans are here."

--

Fright filled those that heard what Emala had said, they had long been informed about the Romans, they were a bain in the Gaul's side, for when they took over a land, they made its people obey their rules, many were made slaves and carted off to gods know where, religion but the Roman way was outlawed under penalty of death, no these Romans they were not welcome.

Now panic reigned as the meeting broke up, and the people ran in all directions to their homes. Children were herded into a big group, and along with the women were told to hide in the forest, and flee to safer ground if needed.

The men armed themselves with long swords and bows and arrows and walked soberly to the coast.

Emala should have been with the women but she was too curious to see what would happen, so she surreptitiously followed the men and then ran up to her favourite place, the wind swept cliff to watch what would happen.

It was low tide, and the Romans had anchored right out in the sea, she could see the Roman soldiers jumping into the sea, and wading to shore. Her people's warriors were by now standing on the pebbly beach, and started to laugh at the floundering men, as they cascaded them with arrows and stones and anything else that they could get their hands on.

A man started rushing the shore; he was holding a banner and shouting "Leap forth, soldiers, unless you wish to betray your standard to the enemy. I, at any rate, shall have performed my duty to my country and my general."

He was followed by the rest of the soldiers, and then they were standing on the beach, weapons held high and suddenly they were not so funny, they were terrifying.

Emala watched as many of the men she had been brought up with, who she had know all her life, were cut down, their life blood running in the salty water as their lives ended.

Emala no longer thought it was fun to watch, she felt afraid and wished that she had run with the rest of the women, but she was alone as she saw the rest of the warriors withdraw, probably to find more who would join the fight against the enemy army.

"I have to get away from here" she muttered to herself, "I have to find my mother." With terror she started to stand up, but she felt a cold hand on her shoulder, and as she was turned around by the hand, she was terrified to see a Roman soldier towering over her.

"Arh, what have we here?" he sneered, "a pretty little heathen."

Emala screamed, and then blackness descending she fainted, nearly toppling over the sheer cliff if the man hadn't stopped her.

"Just as I like them" he sniggered as he carried her to somewhere more appropriate for what he had in mind.

--

Emala came to at the sound of a loud voice; and she was callously dumped on the ground, a rocks cutting into her arm. She heard an argument start over her head, with words she didn't understand.

"I told all the soldiers' that they were not to touch the native women that they weren't to be molested. We have to make friends with these people, not abuse them" the loud voice was yelling.

"But they aren't people" moaned the big Roman soldier, "and I just wanted a bit of fun. It has been so long, we have been confined in that boat for so many days, I just wanted to release some tension."

"With a child?" the first man said, revulsion in his voice, "look at her Hadrian, she is only a girl, she can't be more than thirteen years old."

"I wouldn't have hurt her, she would have been alright afterwards, I would even have paid her a coin to make up for it."

The man was now laughing, a deep rumbling laugh, "they don't have currency her, Hadrian. How think can you be?"

Emala peered up at the man, in some ways he was far more frightening than the man who she had been saved from. He was wearing a far more chain mail than the other soldier, and it came down lower, on his head he had a helmet with red feathers plumage. But Emala noticed, he had a kind face, and though she still didn't feel safe, she felt calmer to be in his presence, he was an honourable man.

He bent down to Emala, and gently took her hand, "come with me" he said in her language

Soon she found herself in an enclosure, where many of her people were already imprisoned.

"Emala" called a familiar voice, "why didn't you go with the women and children?"

"Father, I am sorry, I was too curious" and she told him what had happened to her.

--

Emala stared out at the Roman soldiers, clutching the bars of the cage that confined her, she watched as the men scurried around being obviously ordered by the man who had saved her.

She had noticed that without his helmet, he looked almost beautiful, if he hadn't been a Roman she would have fancied him, but she would never let her mind run in that direction.

"They are very organised, aren't they?" her father murmured in her ear, "and to think we thought that we could win against them."

She looked at her father, "we might win still father, and you shouldn't give up hope."

"Arh, my little Emala, always the confident one, what would our people do without you? We would be lost."

She gave him a big cuddle; he was always able to make her feel good about herself.

He looked down at her face, "anyway, we have injured, do you have your healer's bag with you?"

Emala looked at the bag she had discarded when she had found her father in this prison, "I have some supplies father, I will do what I can."

She quickly got to work, trying to help her people as she had been taught by her mother.

--

Marcus watched the young woman in the cage; she had a dignity about her that he had never seen in a woman before. She was forthright, helping the wounded of her people as he had seen many treating the injured on the battlefield though they had been male.

The women he knew simpered and fluttered around, constantly trying to attract members of the opposite gender, they never worked, they would never help someone who was covered in blood, they would consider that below them. This girl, and he realised that her terror gone she was probably a bit older than he had first thought, this girl was not squeamish, she didn't veer away from the repulsive, to him she was a new kind of female, one that actually had a vocation in life beyond being pretty.

He thought about the girl he had left behind in Rome, how she was predisposed to frittery, how she moaned until he brought her the new fashion. How she always had to be festooned with jewellery and made up with make up., this heathen girl could bring her to the realisation that not all in life was about material possessions, that they had to have a purpose. The fact that she was obviously a healer would be beneficial too, as she could be more than a companion, she could be a nurse to the sickly girl.

"Yes, I will take her back to Rome, and give her to Lucia" he decided watching the young woman with interest.

--

On the fourth day after the Romans had arrived, that news came, by then Emala fast learner that she was had learnt some of their language and could understand the basics of the problem. It seemed that the expected reinforcements had not arrived, being driven back by the fierce sea to where they had come from. Many of the original forces' vessels were damaged at the same time, and a murmur of discontent started amongst the invading army.

Emala smiled at her father Soren, "they have got their just deserts father, they are stranded here now and will have to work hard to meet their needs."

"And in the meantime, our people can amass and force them back into the sea, and back to Rome" Soren finished her sentence.

"I just hope they don't take us with them" one of Emala's friends butted in.

"Marlo, are you feeling better" Emala asked, picking up his arm and peering below the bandage. "It is healing well" she grinned up at him.

"Thanks to you Emala; and the care you show all of us. You are beautiful on the inside as well as the outside" he stuttered, feeling shy about revealing his feelings for her.

Emala was shocked; she had never thought of him in a romantic way, he was more of a brother to her, a sibling she had wished for all her life.

About to say something tactful to him so he wouldn't get his hopes up but she was startled by the thudding sound of many feet as soldiers stormed into the camp.

"I think we have won" she grinned, watching as they ran for their boats.

That smile was quickly wiped off her face as Marcus arrived in front of the cage, a group of soldiers behind him.

"We will take them back to Rome" he said, "Caesar has ordered it."

--

Emala stared as the land of her childhood disappeared into the fog. She knew that she would never see the face of her mother again, or that of her best friends, she would never again be able to wander the lonely cliffs, and bring back bird eggs to the delight of her family.

For a moment, she considered throwing herself into the writhing sea, it would be a quick painless end, for she didn't know what the future would bring, it the future just terrified her. Her father's face appeared in her mind, and she knew that whatever happened she was needed, she couldn't be selfish, she had to survive and give hope to those that were slave like she knew she would be.

"Maybe one day…" she idly wondered if she could get back to her people, but then pushed the idea angrily away.

"I am no longer Emala of the Britain's; I am Emala the slave girl."

But she knew her fate was better than the males that had been captured. As soon as the cage had been opened they had been encased in chains and led down to below the deck of the boat. She had heard one of the soldiers laughing about it, the one that had tried to hurt her, he had said that her people would row their way back to Gaul.

--

Marcus watched the young girl closely, she interested him but he was also concerned for her safety. Once he had decided to give her to Lucia, he had made it his mission that no one would abuse her, that she would not be hurt, he would protect her.

"Do you like the girl?" a middle age man hobbled up to him, nearly falling over as the boat swayed in the fierce sea.

Marcus grabbed his arm, and helped him to stand up straight, looking at the man he said with concern "Julius, my lord, you shouldn't be out here, what if one of the Britains get loose, and try to hurt you? You are Caesar, you must be protected."

Caesar waved away his concern, "but do you like her?" he repeated pointing at Emala.

"She is different" Marcus conceded, and so pretty. When I saw her eyes, I thought I was looking directly into the Fields of Elysium, there is something pure about her, and……" he looked away embarrassed.

"You are in love" Caesar stated, "but how are you going to convince her to love you back, and what about Lucia? What will you do about her?"

"She doesn't need to know about Lucia" Marcus answered, "not yet, if she starts to feel the same way as I do, then maybe then I will tell her, and we can work something out."

"Don't leave it too long" the emperor warned him, "you have to let her decide her own future, if she doesn't know about Lucia before she is in love with you, she could feel that you have betrayed her."

"I will think about it" Marcus agreed, though he wasn't sure how he would go about telling her about the love of his life.

--

Emala could see land, it was in the distance, and the boat went painfully slow, though she couldn't complain knowing that it was many of her friends and neighbours who were making the vessel move, along with her precious father.

Marcus moved up behind her, "beautiful, isn't it" he said, looking more at her face than the land that was coming closer by the minute.

"It will be wonderful to stand on the land again, even if it isn't my home" she murmured. "Is that Rome?"

Marcus shook his head, "Rome is a long way from here, we will have to travel over land, but we Roman's have built roads to make the journey easier, you can ride in my chariot."

Emala looked at him in horror, "I would rather walk with the rest of the slaves" she told him, the fierceness in her eyes giving him no illusions as to her feelings for him.

"Maybe you would, but I want to keep you close to me" he stared into her wonderful blue grey eyes.

"I want to walk with my father" she insisted.

"Your father?" he queried, "is he one of those in the hold?"

Emala nodded her head, "I hope he is okay" she said, mostly to herself, "if he is ill or injured, it will be on your head."

"You should have said, I will get him release immediately" he kindly told her.

"Why?" she asked, wondering what he wanted, "why would you do that?"

He couldn't answer, not without revealing how he felt about her, "I am just trying to be nice" he hesitantly answered.

"I would rather be with him in the hold, I would rather share his fate than stay up here with you" she glared at him, suspicious about what he sought.

"We are nearly there" he reminded her, "and you are a woman, I couldn't make you work so hard" he commented.

"But you can make old men row this boat?" she asked, anger welling within her, "it could be the death of them, but you don't care. You consider us heathen, but I say it is your people who are the heathens, you are the people who ruthlessly invade lands and steal the people, you are barbarians."

Marcus knew he couldn't win this argument, he could see how she seethed and was embarrassed how she had belittled him, he looked around to see if anyone had seen his humiliation, and saw a crowd of grinning soldiers, heading by the emperor Julius Caesar.

"You let a little girl win in an argument" he giggled, "maybe she should be my general."

--

When they finally reached Gaul, Emala had expected to see a society that was very alien to her own, but the indigenous people were basically they same. These people were like her own, the Romans were an invading army that were hated by all Gauls.

Little stone houses lined the coast and scattered further back, reminiscent of the home she had grown up in, though they were dull red here instead of flint grey of her people.

She watched as the prisoners from the hold were marched up above deck, hollow eyed shadows of their former self.

"Father" she cried out, when she saw him, his coats ragged and his back red from the whip. "What have they done to you father?"

Soren tried to get to his girl, but couldn't move for the chains that fettered his ankles. Nevertheless, one of the Roman soldiers hurried forward, a whip in his hand and beat the man into obedience.

Emala, tears in her eyes, could only call out to him, "I am alright father, they have hurt me" her teeth grinded the words knowing that she was the fortunate one.

"Come on Emala" Marcus gently tried to put his arms around her, "we have to go."

"I love you father" she sobbed as she was lead to a chariot, Marcus climbed in behind her.

Soren watched with blazing eyes, as she was led away, "I will find you Emala" he promised, "and I will make that Roman scum pay for what he has done to you."

--

She tried to ignore how close he was, keeping her eyes and mind on the road ahead, she noticed that there were sheep grazing the fertile grass, and cows that looked at them, watching them with soulful eyes as they chewed the cud.

They had left the village and her father far behind now, there was only the odd house, here and there, but as they came to a hill, she noticed at the top of it a building unlike any she had ever seen before. She stared at it, her mouth open with awe.

"That is where we are staying tonight" Marcus told her, his warm breath tickling her ear, "it is my villa."

White stones shined at her in the bright sun, they were angular as if they had been carved to be like that. She had never seen anything like it, for it was huge as least five normal sized dwellings.

"Do a lot of people live here?" she asked, "many families?"

Marcus shook his head, "only me, and my servants and slaves of course, though many of them live in the outbuildings."

"But why do you need so much space?" she queried, trying to get her head around one person living in such a massive building. "Do you not get lost?"

Marcus started to laugh, revelling in her innocence, "no Emala I don't get lost" he guffawed.

As they came closer, she saw that the building had an outside part to it, in front of the doorway. It was built with luminous columns, and the door was made of gleaming door.

"It is very pretty" she commented, overawed by such luxury. There were plants and trees arranged in lines on the outskirts of the building, their greenery complementing the whiteness of the house.

"Wait until you see Rome" he told her, "this building is nothing compared to that."

--

She had been even more amazed at the inside of the house, and its contents, never in her life had she imagined such affluence and lavishness. She had been given her own room, and told that she could go where she willed, but she wasn't to leave the confines of the estate. She had been warned that the Gauls didn't take kindly to foreigners, whether they were from Rome or not.

Now she stood in a garden, flowers sewn in organised lines, she remembered the natural beauty of her land and sighed, sitting down heavily she wondered if she would ever see Britain again, for that was what she yearned for.

--

They stayed at the villa for several days, but eventually as much as he enjoyed Emala's company, he knew they had to move; they had to get to Rome for he was worried how Lucia was coping without him.

This time, they travelled in an enclosed chariot which had a large seat in it.

Emala sat next to him, feeling his leg rub her own with each bump in the road, she tried to edge away from him time and time again, but sooner or later she found herself cramped up against him again.

"How long will it take us to get to Rome?" she asked impatiently, having no knowledge of its distance from where they were.

"It will take quite a long time, about six weeks" he told her, "we could get there quicker if we went at break neck speed, but it would tire the horse, anyway I would like to know you better, and you me."

"Why?"

"I intend to make you a permanent part of my household in Rome, you will be companion to a Roman young lady, when I saw you back in Britain helping the wounded around you, I knew that you would be able to help her. She needs a stabilising influence, but as well as that she hasn't been well."

The healer in Emala came out at this statement, "what is wrong with her?" she asked.

"She is so thin, and weak, always thirsty, we have had the best doctors to her, but all they have offered her is treatments that make the symptoms worse. One doctor's cure even made her faint, I am at my wits end with it, I didn't like leaving her, but Caesar needed me. I organised someone to look after her while I was gone, but I still worry."

"Does she need to go to the latrines a lot?" she asked.

"You mean the privy? I am not sure, bodily functions like that aren't talked about, not with men anyway."

"Okay, I will have to speak to her myself when we get there. What about her eyes, do they get sore and itchy?

"Well they are often red. Do you know what is wrong with her?"

"I will have to examine her, but I have an idea what it could be. A girl in our village suffered the same symptoms my mother the main healer diagnosed her as being a diabetic. She gave her a special diet to follow, and made her medicine to help with her illness."

"Medicine?" he queried.

Emala sighed, "there is a plant that helps with diabetes, it is called goat's rue, she mixed it with gymnema sylvestre, a plant brought to our shores by an Indian trader, and Vanadium, a mineral found in fish and shellfish. Within no time, you wouldn't have realised that she was ill, the last time I saw her she was heavily pregnant with her first child and blooming."

"And we could get some of this for Lucia?" he asked, tears in his eyes at the thought of her having a normal life.

"I have some of it in my bag, but we will have to find more, I haven't got a limitless supply."

Then that is what we will do" he laughed, his heart lightened for the first time in many years.

--

They lived in each other pockets for weeks, by the time they had been travelling for five weeks; they knew each other well, though not intimately.

Emala had taken to watching him, with closely veiled eyes; she never let her emotions show for she knew that his heart belonged to the sick Lucia. It was at one such time, when they were travelling in the rocky chariot, when the vehicle bumped over a big lump in the road, and she was thrown into his arms. She tried to scurry back to her seat but he held her tight and she inhaled his manly scent.

"Let me go" she shuddered, but willingly acquiescence as his lips moved to hers.

Moments later she moved her head away from his, "what about Lucia?" she breathlessly asked.

He looked at her puzzled, "Lucia is not here" he murmured as he lowered his head to hers.

--

An hour later, she climbed painfully out of the chariot, her lips bruised red from his kisses. In front of them was another villa, the umpteenth they had stayed in. it was a welcome sight after the long journey that day, she seemed to ache a little bit more each day. She would be glad to see the back of the chariot when they got to Rome.

"We are in Italy now" Marcus told her, "only a few more days and we will reach our destination, then you can meet Lucia, my little flower, and start to help her."

Emala startled at hearing her love rivals name, hurried up the stone steps in the coolness of the building. She looked around, seeing a slave walking towards her, she stared at his skin, it was black.

Marcus, leisurely walked in behind her, "arh Cassipor, can you inform your master Cassius that we have arrived, and then show this young lady the room that has been set aside for her.

Emala watched the man scurry away, he returned several moments later followed by a silver hair man, who greeted Marcus and waved the slave away.

Emala followed Cassipor into the depth of the house, "I have never seen skin like yours before" she said nervously, "where are you from?"

Cassipor turned around, his eyes blazing intelligence; he pointed at his mouth, and shook his head.

Emala looked into his mouth, and immediately felt faint, he had no tongue, "I'm so sorry" she said, wondering what sort of people would do that to another human being.

They started walking again, and Emala soon found herself outside a sturdy door, the slave opened it to reveal a room stunning with its opulence.

"Thank you" she whispered, and watched Cassipor as he went back to his duties, whatever they might be.

--

When she retired to her borrowed room that night, she put a chair underneath the door handle, wanting to have no night time visitors, especially Marcus. She had seen how his eyes had smouldered at her at dinner, over the tops of the candles they had been obvious, but she was determined that he would not get his way with her.

"I hope that stops him if he comes visiting" she muttered to herself. She didn't want a repeat of the mistake that afternoon, when she had allowed him to kiss her; she was resolved that nothing like that would happen again.

She climbed into the luxurious bed, and fell into an unsettled sleep as she dreamt about her life before the Romans had arrived.

Many of her friends had already mated, but she didn't like anyone like that, not one of the males of her people appealed to her.

She dreamt that her mother was telling her she had to put aside the silliness of youth, and live as a woman.

It was during this speech that she found herself instantly awake, for a second she wondered where she was, but then as the door handle rattled, she remembered everything.

She jumped out of bed, and quickly pulled a sheet over her naked body. "Who is it?" she timidly called through the door.

"It is me, Marcus, let me in" he urged.

"Why?" she asked, fearing she already knew the answer.

"I love you Emala" his voice floated through the door.

Her heart lurched at this statement, but she knew she had to be strong, "what about Lucia?" she asked, "you love her."

"Of course I love her" he answered, "but what has Lucia got to do with us?"

"Work it out" and she stormed back to bed.

"Emala let me in" he shouted, as he hammered on the door.

"Go away" she yelled.

"I just want to talk to you."

"Well I don't, go away" she screamed.

After he had banged on the door a few more times, she barely heard him as he said, "we will talk tomorrow, you won't have a door between us then."

Emala threw a pillow at the door, "go away" she sobbed, knowing that in the chariot the next day she would have no where to hide.

--

The next week Emala tried to keep as much to herself as she could. By day they travelled in silence, by night she slept with a chair or other item barring the way into her room, and her heart.

Finally they arrived at the massive city of Rome, and the chariot travelled the last few miles along a narrow coastal road until they reached Marcus' home.

Emala stared at the most intimidating building she had ever seen, it was immense. Like most of the Roman homes they had stayed at on the way, it was built with white brick, but Emala felt belittled by the size of it.

She gulped in fear, and climbed out of the vehicle finding herself surrounded by numerous servants and slaves.

"How have things fared since I have been away?" Marcus asked his overseer.

"You will find all things in order Master Marcus, but I am sorry to report that Lucia has taken a turn for the worse."

Emala saw a slight figure walking towards them, it was a girl, the complete opposite to herself, as she was fair, the girl was dark, and as she was muscular, the girl was thin, as she was healthy with rosy cheeks, the girl was drawn and deathly pale.

"Arh Lucia" Marcus grinned, "this is Emala, she is going to be your companion from now on, she is a healer."

Emala scrutinized the girl, at closer range, she seemed young, no more than a child, but Emala put that down to her illness.

"And this Emala" he put his arm around the dark haired girl, "this is Lucia, my daughter."

--

Soren had reached Rome a lot quicker than Emala, indeed he had been there for quite a few weeks. He had been sold to a kind master, who allowed him to keep his own name instead of being given a new one that claimed ownership.

His master he knew was different to a lot of men, he never used a whip, and didn't cut out the tongue, he was a good man, and Soren was rightly proud to work for him, as much as a slave taken from his land could be anyway.

His master, Titus had soon realised that he was an intelligent man, and had made it his mission to teach his slave to read, and count, and after many months he was given the respected position of overseer. No longer did Titus regard him as a slave, he wasn't a piece of furniture, he became the man's friend and confidant and soon Soren found himself released as a slave, for Titus was never happy about owning another human, soon he was just his servant, and his friend.

And so one sunny day in March, six months after he had arrived in Rome, Soren found himself accompanying Titus, to the market place.

"I want Varro's scroll on Pagan Religion" Titus told the store holder, "do you have that?"

"I think I have it" mused the man, "I will check. While you are waiting maybe an educated man like you would also like to peruse Cicero's new scroll, it is called Pro C. Rabirio Postumo, many of my patrons are raving about it."

Titus picked up the scroll the store holder had shown him, and unfurling it, he started to read. "This is really good" he said, "Soren listen to this" and he read aloud, "If you wish anyone's judgment and fortune persuasive discourse, foundation especially and as best one can to set up wealth…."

"That sounds a worthy scroll to read" Soren agreed, not understanding it in the least.

"Yes, I think I will have to get it, now where is that store holder, arh here he is." Titus looked expectantly at the scroll the man was holding, "is that it?"

"You are lucky today patron, this is my last copy of this scroll, and I don't know if I will be able to get any more, most people want to read the more recently written works." He looked at the scroll still in Titus' hand, "did you enjoy Cicero's latest?" he asked, hoping for a sale of two scrolls.

"Yes my good man, it is very enjoyable, I have read a small section of it and I am intrigued to read more. My man will pay you for both scrolls."

The store holder looked expectantly at the small bag that Soren had tied to his belt, "that will be a sestertius for Cicero's scroll and a denarius for the older more rare work of Varro" he said holding his hand out for payment.

Soren quickly gave the store holder a bronze and a silver coin, and then ran to catch up with Titus.

He never managed to reach him, for he was stopped in his tracks at the sight of a pair of young women at the fruit sellers store, one was thin, had black hair, and was obviously Roman, the other was blonde, and clearly British, it was Emala, and from the protuberance of her stomach, she was pregnant.

--

"Emala" he called, and ran towards her causing her to flinch away, "it's me Emala, it is your father."

Soren's words filtered through her frightened mind, she looked at his face and sobbed "is it really you? Father, are you my daddy?" She ran to him, and threw herself into his arms.

Soren wrapped his arms around his once sylph girl, and with one hand lifted her chin and looked at her sobbing face. "What has he done to you?" he said through gritted teeth not caring who saw their embrace or his obvious anger.

"Soren?" a man called, "why have you got that young girl in your arms?"

He let Emala go, but kept one arm draped over her shaking shoulder. "Titus, this is my daughter, I have told you about Emala, and as you can see from the state of her, a grave disservice has been done to her."

Titus looked at the ballooning woman, and then at Soren, "I will make sure whoever has done this will be punished, be they slave or free man."

Emala, so shocked to see her father after all that time, hadn't been able to follow what was being said but her companion had, and now she spoke.

"My father has done nothing wrong" she insisted.

"Lucia?" Titus recognised her, "the baby belongs to Marcus your father?"

"Yes" Lucia stood her ground, "and the babies also belong to Emala, she is his wife."

Now it was Soren's time to feel confused, "his wife?" he asked.

"Yes, she is General Marcus Tiberius Eirenikos's wife; they married over five months ago in October, the babies are due in July though she wonderful healer that she is, she says that as there are two of them, she had felt them fighting within her."

"I am going to be a grandfather, to twins?" Soren said coming out of his daze.

Emala finally understanding the words that has been spoken around her, answered the question, "father yes you are going to be a granddad."

Fourteen years old Lucia started jumping with excitement, and I am going to have little siblings who I can spoil" she laughed.

"Father, may I introduce you to my step daughter, this is Lucia Gaia Eirenikos, Marcus' daughter from his first marriage. Lucia this is my father Soren."

--

Together they walked Emala back to her home, she was very tired after her joyful reunion with her father, and she wished to rest.

As they got to the villa, Marcus came running out, "you have been a long time" he said, "is everything okay?"

"Father, Emala is just tired, this is her father, seeing him after so long was a bit of a shock for her."

"Marcus" Titus called, and pumping his arm said "let your daughter see to her, she will be fine."

"Titus, it has been ages since I last saw you, what have you been doing with yourself?" he smiled, though he still watched Lucia supporting Emala into their home.

"I have been busy, training up Soren, Emala's father, he is my new overseer. But enough of me, what about you, and what about Lucia, it is good to see roses in her cheeks, she looks so much healthier than last time I saw her, have you managed to find a doctor that could treat her?"

"Sort of" grinned Marcus, "it was Emala, she is a healer, my little girl is healthy again after so long when I thought she was at death's door."

"Wow, she must be some healer, there are many in the city that could do with some of her help."

"Maybe" Marcus agreed, "and she has spoken about opening a store selling ointments and cures but for now she needs to concentrate on herself, at least until the babies are born, and weaned."

"Yes, yes, of course, but when she is ready, then I would be more than happy to help her set up her shop, and that will go more than double for Soren, I'm sure he would want to help her in any way he could."

--

When the babies had been born, and Emala felt well enough, a store was set up in an affluent part of Rome and she soon found herself inundated with patients, giving them cures for simple things like warts, to more serious conditions like asthma.

A few years later, on one of Emala's most busy days, when her business had been quiet for a few hours, Soren came to see her.

"Emala, I am accompanying the Roman troops to Gaul" he told her, "then I will leave them, and travel over to Britain, I am going home."

Emala felt tears prickle, Soren was the last part of her old life she had and now he was going. "I will miss you father" she told him, "I wish I could come with you, but my life is here now."

"I know, and I half don't want to leave you, but my heart belongs in that distant land, with your mother if she is still alive."

"Send my love to her" she sobbed, and tell her about my life here, and about Marcus, Lucia, and the twins."

"I will, and though she will be sad to not see them, she will be honoured that you called them after her."

"Meria and Riall" she murmured looking at her babies, sleeping peacefully next to her. "I wonder what life will bring them."


	7. Fenala, 33AD

A healer's line,

Carried through time,

Next will come Fenala,

Who will witness a great event,

And become a part of the greatest story ever told.

--

Fenala was a servant, tales told that once her family had been rich, but they had fallen on bad times and Fenala along with her siblings had been hired out to be servants.

Her master was a Centurion, and when he moved to Judea, then she moved too.

She didn't have a heavy load, her job was to look after his home, and provide food for him.

One day, when she was out in the market, bartering for goods, the sun beating down on her head suddenly felt hotter, and she collapsed and had to be carried back to her master's home.

The centurion had the best doctors out to his beloved servant, and though they managed to diagnose her from her fatigue, abnormal bleeding, excessive bruising and malaise, they were unable to help her, she was desperately ill, at death's door, with no hope of recovery, she had leukaemia.

--

The man moved through the dusty streets, constantly followed by people. He didn't mind, for he had come for the people, to give them hope, and everlasting life.

"Rabbi, heal me" one would shout, and his heart would go out to the person, and he would heal them, restore vision, cure illness, and impart God's joyous spirit to them.

He was now in Capernaum, and many needed him, but he knew what God's will was, and he waited for the Centurion.

And soon enough he came, "oh great Lord, Fenala my servant is gravely ill, she will die soon, but I know that even now you can heal her."

The man nodded, and was about to tell the Centurion to lead the way, that he would come and cure the servant, but then he saw the Roman shake his head.

"I am not worthy to have the Lord come under my roof, but I know that you have only to speak the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, 'Go' and he goes; and that one, 'Come' and he comes. I say to my servant, 'Do this' and he does it."

The man was amazed at this and told His followers, that not even in Israel had He found such faith. He then told the Centurion "Go, let it be done for you according to your faith".

Fenala woke up, she had dreamt about a man with a gentle smile who had bid her to awaken, but the dream didn't leave her, it just became more solid and realising that she had no pain, and believing in her heart that she was healed, she murmured "thank you Jesus" and got out of her bed and started to prepare her master's evening meal.

--

When Fenala was young, before her parents had hired her out as a servant to the Centurion, she had dreamt of being a healer. The facts of life had put pay to those desires, at least until now.

She had been given another chance of life and intended to not waste a minute so she decided that she had to ask her master his advice.

--

Nicasius was in his atrium, breathing up the beauty of the small garden and gently splashing fountain. He'd had a hard day, there had been a lot of trouble with the zealots recently and that day it had culminated in violence, when Zadox the Pharisee had been preaching outside of King Herod's residential palace.

He could remember the words of the man still, they echoed around his head, "this taxation is no better than an introduction to slavery, I exhort our nation to assert their liberty."

Nicasius rubbed his sore head, he was about to shout his servant to get him a cooling drink, when she came into the atrium, carrying a tray with a pitcher and a cup on.

"Arh Fenala, my dear you have read my thoughts, how did you know that I needed a drink so badly?"

Fenala smiled to herself, she knew what her master needed before he even knew himself, "I know how hard you work master, and I thought you would enjoy a drink of lemonade" she smiled, pouring some of the yellow liquid into his cup, bits of lemon and crushed ice floating in it.

"My dear" he smiled, "what would I do without you?" to think I nearly lost you."

She watched him drink and then taking all her hopes and dreams in her hands and deciding know was as good a time as any, she said "master?"

Nicasius put down the cup and looked at her, "Fenala, I have told you before I want you to use my name, none of this master thing, you are not my slave, you are an important part of my household, and I respect you deeply."

"Nicasius, I have been thinking a lot since the man from Nazareth healed me, and I wanted to ask you…."

"Yes Fenala?"

"Well before I came to you, when I still lived with my parents, I had a dream, an ambition but I put it aside so I could serve you. But the thing is" she gripped the material of her dress tightly squeezing it in anxiety.

Nicasius gently took her hand away from the material and bid her to sit down, "I think what you are about to say is important, I would rather you were sat down so I wasn't staring up at the sun, now go on" he said as soon as she was sat on the chair opposite him.

"I want to be a healer, to give to society some of the love that flowed through me when he healed me, I know I haven't his power, or his calling but if I could help people in the smallest way then it would mean that I was doing something worthwhile in my life."

"And looking after this house and cooking for me is not your life calling?" he said kindly.

"I love doing that, and I would want to continue, but I would also like to learn about healing too. There is a woman who lives in Capernaum, she is well known for her skills, and she had agreed to train me, I only need your permission."

"And you have my permission" he smiled, "you never know you might learn of a cure for these headaches of mine, for that I would be eternally grateful."

Fenala jumped up and hugged the older man, and then looking unsure of herself said "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

Nicasius shook his head, "don't worry about it, it made this old man feel good for a young woman to give him a cuddle, it is many years since I have had that. Anyway you are like the daughter I never had."

Fenala nodded, and hurried out of the atrium to get on with her duties.

Tomorrow she would meet up with Marian, and being her training.

--

Fenala met Marian the Israelite the next day at her home. She had a scarf over her head, and another one for her pupil. "It shows respect to God" she said, "for God taught me, and I am going to teach you, so you should show deference to him."

Fenala nodded, and quickly put the scarf over her blonde hair.

"Okay, if you will fetch me that basket over there" she pointed at a well made wicker container. "We are going out into the fields and meadows today, on a vegetation spotting experience. Before you can heal people, you need to know what medicinal cures can be made from plants."

They walked out of the small house, and down the sandy lane, they past the Galilean sea, and then were in the open country.

"See the almond tree" Marian began, it is beautiful, and the nuts from it are sweet and nice to eat. But what you might not know that if you peel an almond, and then smash it up, mix it with water, milk or gruel and simmer, it helps alleviate digestive problems, a patient given the liquid would find their pain stopped in a matter of minutes." She quickly pulled some of the almonds of the tree and put them in her basket, and then pointed towards another plant.

"This is called aloe vera, it is wonder plant" she said about the funny looking vegetation, "it can cure all manner of ill, many which you will learn about it due course, for now I can tell you the glutinous sap from the leaves, are good for skin complaints, for blisters, insect bites, rashes, sores, and dry skin." With a knife she dug up the roots of the plant and put it in her basket. "

They carried on walking, Fenala enjoyed the hot summer sun, and the beautiful land, when Marian stopped her again, she was ready for more learning. She saw her bend down next to a plant, to Fenala's untrained eye it looked like a weed, but to Marian it was something much more.

"This is sheep's sorrel" she said, pulling it out of the ground, "it's leaves, stem and flowers steeped to make a tea, are good for detoxifying, helpful with diarrhoea, and excellent if a patient has an infection."

They came to another plant, "this is rosemary, a tea can help with the old age cataracts, and other sight problems."

"What about this plant" Fenala asked eagerly.

"That is peppermint, it is another wonder plant, its medicinal uses are so varied, the astringent vapour of the crushed plant can help with breathing problems, mixed up it can be applied to wounds, burns, scalds, even toothache."

"Wow, that is a wonder plant" Fenala mused.

"But that is not all it can do, it can calm an upset stomach, or help with the pains of an irritable bowel, it helps with arthritis and is a pain reliever too, headaches, toothaches, cramps.

This was how the day went, and by the end of the day her head was buzzing with all the information she had learned.

"Did you find a cure for my headaches?" Nicasius asked as she brought him his evening meal.

"I did Nicasius" she answered, "I asked Marian and she showed me how to prepare a tea for you. I could tell when I saw you; you were rubbing your head, that a headache was troubling you, so I went ahead and made the tea." She gave him a cup brimming with warm liquid.

"What is it?" he queried, sipping the drink.

"It is willow bark and peppermint tea" she said simply.

--

The next day, once she had done all her duties she hurried to Marian's house for day two of her training. She was shocked when she got there to see a man lying on a mat, the healer crouching next to him.

Marian was pleased to see her, "Fenala, I am glad you arrived, this is Joseph, he fell this morning on the slivery deck of a boat, while fishing, he has broke his leg. A man carried him here, but he is in a lot of pain. Do you think you could make some tea? The leaves I will be using are in that container over there, the one with the picture of a pale pink flower."

Fenala looked for the right pot, and finding one she thought was right, she took it to show the healer.

"Yes, that is it" Marian agreed, "now I already have some water boiling, if you put a handful in a cup, and fill it with the water, then it will steep and cool."

Fenala did all this, though the cries of the injured man were difficult to listen to. When it was sufficiently cool, she took it to the healer who instructed her to help Joseph to drink it.

When he was sufficient out of it, and asleep, Marian indicated it was time to set the leg. She felt his leg, scrutinizing it more now it wouldn't hurt him. "It is a straight break, just needs a little bit of agitating, and it will be fine. If you will just hold his thigh tightly for me."

Fenala nodded, and blushing grabbed the top of the man's leg.

"Hold tight" Marian instructed her, "I am going to pull the leg so don't let go" she insisted, and then began to tug.

Fenala found that the woman's strength was hard to match, gritting her teeth; she clung to him as if the devil was trying to pull him into the abyss.

Tears of perspiration were on the healer's forehead, but she blinked them away and concentrated, and soon was gratified to hear the definite click of a bone going back into place. "Right we just need to secure the break now, so the bone doesn't slip out of alignment again." Then she put a splint next to his leg, and wrapped vinegar soaked material tightly around his leg, making sure his circulation was unaffected. Finally she smothered the leg with ground up gypsum mixed with water. "When this dries, it will harden and resemble the plaster used on the outside of many buildings."

--

When Joseph woke up from his henbane stupor, he was full of energy and started to regale them with a story.

"Have you seen the rabbi that has been travelling the area?" he asked, when they shook their heads.

He continued, "you must, he says some wonderful things. My best friend, is one of his disciples, I still remember the day he came, he was fishing with his father Zebedee and his brother James, when this man appeared at the shore. You could feel the air move around him, such energy came from him. The man peered over the Sea of Galilee, and then on setting his eyes on their boat, he called out to them.

"What did he say?" Fenala shivered, thinking that this man sounded familiar.

"Come, follow me and I will make you fishers of men, I remember at the time that I thought that what he had said was funny, but deep down I was disappointed that he hadn't called out to me. Anyway as soon as he had said it, James and my friend John were out of their father's boat, and wading to the shore. Zebedee didn't look too happy, and that is when the man turned to me, and the words he said will live with me for the rest of my life, you help him he said, but a time will come when I will call you too."

"This man, he wouldn't be called Jesus would he?" Fenala asked.

"So you have heard of him" he stated, and looking more closely at her he continued, "you shine a bit like him, like he has touched your life."

Fenala quickly told him about being saved from the jaws of death.

"Well, I'm a good Israelite" Miriam testified, "I won't be swayed by some false god."

"But that is just it, Miriam, he isn't a false god, I believe he is the messiah."

--

A few weeks later Joseph took her to listen to the man himself. She came away feeling greatly perturbed, and confused. "What did that story mean?" she asked him.

Joseph shook his head, "I don't know, come on I see that the rabbi has just been talking to John, maybe if we go over to him, he can explain it."

They walked over to the man, but before Joseph could talk, he said, "Jesus said you would be coming, he wants you to go and talk to him, he will explain what the parable meant."

They walked over to the rabbi in a state of shock, but when he greeted them, they were even more surprised.

"Hello Joseph" he said, "sit down Fenala; I see you are feeling much better from the leukaemia that nearly killed you."

"Yes Lord" she said meekly.

"So you want to know the meaning of the tale I told, I have already told my disciples, but as you are seeking the truth I will tell you too. The knowledge of heaven is not given to all, but I will share the truth with you. The parable of the sower is the word is the farmer, he scatters the seeds of heaven, but some falls on the path and is eaten up by the birds, these people are those who hear the message but don't understand it."

And Jesus described all the mystery contained in his parables.

Later on, it was late Jesus had been preaching to the large multitude all day and many were now hungry. Some had started to walk the long distance to the nearest town, but Jesus called them back. Then he asked the disciples how much food they had, and soon the whole crowd had been asked.

"I haven't' got any food" Fenala told them.

"Neither have I" Joseph agreed.

A little boy walked up to them, I have the supper my mother gave me" he told them, hoping that they wouldn't take away his meagre meal. "it is five loaves of bread and two fish."

The disciples hurried back to Jesus, but were soon back, "the rabbi wants your food" they told the boy, "but he said you must trust him, and he will give back in abundance."

Jesus directed the people to sit down, he took the loaves and fish and looked up to heaven and gave thanks and broke the loaves and fish. This he gave them to the disciples, who gave them to the people.

Fenala was shocked at the amount of food they suddenly had, "how?" she asked, but then felt her eyes drawn to the rabbi.

--

Fenala was in the market place, buying fruit. Her master had been really patient with her recently, but the night before when he had asked for grapes, and she had to admit that she hadn't got any, she felt ashamed. She had been spending too much time listening to the Rabbi, and attending her healing lessons with Marian, she had been neglecting Nicasius.

So now she was shopping, loading her basket full of all the good things he liked to eat. She had just put a small melon in, when she was startled to hear a commotion coming from the temple.

A man ran out of the temple and up to the store she was stood at, "brother, you will never guess what" he exclaimed.

The man sighed, "what now Josiah? go on tell me, I know you are dying to."

"That man, the rabbi from Nazareth, you'll never guess what he's gone and done."

"What?" the storekeeper asked wearily.

"He's only gone and over turned all the tables in the temple."

"Why would he do that?"

"I don't know, the funny thing is he shouted something about it being a house of prayer, but making it a den of robbers. You should have seen it" he guffawed, "he made a lash of small cords, and drove the money lenders out, then overturned their tables, money went everywhere, and the lenders were crying from the pain of seeing their precious money rolling everywhere, they were scrabbling around on the floor, amidst chicken and lambs running around the Court of the Gentiles."

"But I thought he was a Godly man" the store holder commented, "why would he do such a thing?"

"Have you been to the temple recently? , there are so many money lenders, and they offer such bad rates, there was a old woman she had just given her last two coins, so she could get a sparrow, to give it to the priests to sacrifice so God would listen and help her in her poverty. She had no money for food after paying that, but the money lenders don't care, they even made her sign a scroll giving them half rights to her home. With those money lenders the poor get poorer, and the thieving lenders get richer. I think Jesus did us a favour, a few less of those people in the temple can't be a bad thing."

Fenala had heard all that was exchanged between the two brothers, she paid for the melon and then started to walk back to the house of her master.

--

That evening, she got to hear the full story from her master Nicasius. It seemed that there had been so many money lenders in the gentile court that you could barely move. Since her miraculous healing, Nicasius had taken to visiting the temple and had been in the court when Jesus had arrived.

"He took one look at them, and made a small thrash, and then forced them out, though he didn't hurt them. I have never seen such zeal or righteous anger before. These people have been making a mockery of the temple but the priests didn't care for they were getting a cut. Well Jesus put pay to that, the money lenders won't dare show their faces around here again."

"What about the priests?" she asked, "how did they react to him?"

"They weren't happy" he admitted, "I think they have something planned for Jesus that won't be very nice."

"God forbid" Fenala muttered under her breath.

--

Fenala had been learning from Miriam for some time now, the day had finally arrived when she took her last step as a healer, she was to treat today's patients herself, with only her teacher's perceptive eyes to stop her from disaster.

A man came in, looking worried, "where is Miriam?" he asked, and was about to walk over to her, when Fenala stopped him.

"Miriam has been teaching me for many months, today is the day that I begin to practise, she is keeping an eye on everything I prescribe and do, but with your permission I will treat you."

The man looked over to Miriam and then uttering a deep sigh agreed to be treated by Fenala. "I have been getting pains in my legs and arms, and I haven't been sleeping, I just wanted something that would make the pain go away and help me to sleep."

Fenala nodded, "what have you tried?" she asked.

"I've tried counting sheep" he answered, "but I'm a shepherd, I just felt I was at work, and that made me even more stressed."

While the man was talking, Fenala filled a cup with wine, and then placed ground up lettuce leaves in it. She past it to him, "drink this" she instructed him, "and go home and get some sleep."

"But this is wine" the man stammered, "are you saying I should get drunk?"

"No, I put something in the wine that reacts to it; it will help with your pain, and facilitate sleep."

She watched the man leave Miriam's house, and then turned to the woman, "was I right in my treatment of him?" she asked.

"There are many treatments you could have given him, but yes lettuce dissolved in wine will act as a mild sedative, it was a good choice."

Fenala smiled happily and waited for the next patient.

--

Fenala didn't have long to wait for the next patient, as soon another arrived at Miriam's door and limped into the building.

"I broke my leg last year" she strained her words, "it has healed now, but I keep falling, it is so weak. It also aches all the time."

Fenala told her to sit down, and then bending down, she asked which leg she had the problems with, and examined it.

"It seems fine" Fenala said, looking up at her, "at least the muscles are okay, maybe the density of your bones have been weakened, you say it hurts still?"

The woman nodded.

"Yes, I think the problem is with your bone, I will give your ground dandelion to make into tea that should build up the strength of your leg."

The woman shuffled out of the house, a big grin on her face, "thank you" she said.

As she was going, an older woman appeared at the door, she was supported by a younger woman and seemed to be having trouble seeing.

Fenala could see straight away what the problem was, she had milky white spots over her pupils, "you have cataracts" she diagnosed.

"can you do anything for them?" the young woman asked, "my mother has always been so lively, full of fun, but her eyes have got so bad recently, she can hardly see anything."

"I will give you ground rosemary leaves. There is something in it that fights cataracts; it would be good for you to drink it too. Cataracts run in families. I want you to make a tea, use a pinch of the dried herbs, and add it to a medium sized pot, add boiled water and let it steep for about ten minutes, covering it so that none is wasted into the air. Strain it and sweeten it with honey. And bring her back in a month, so we can see if the treatment is working."

It had been a long day, it was almost evening and Fenala knew that she had to get back to prepare Nicasius' evening meal. She was about to go, when a man put his head around the door.

"Hello; am I too late?" he asked, "it is just that I need something for my stomach, I have been having a lot of indigestion recently and I just want something that will take it away."

"No, no" Fenala said wearily, "come in, I will give you something for your problem, though maybe you need to make a diet change, stop eating such rich food. Eat more fruit and vegetables that should help." She gave him a packet, "this is powered white dittany, steep it in boiling water, and drink it. It should help with your condition."

Miriam smiled at the back of Fenala as she hurried away, "you are going to be one fine healer" she murmured, "even better than I."

--

Fenala was in the kitchen of her master's friend in Jerusalem, she and another girl Ruth were baking bread. They had been kneading it for some time, when they heard the first sound. People were singing, and shouting, and feet pounded the bath outside the house, of people eager to see something.

Fenala covered the bread with a muslin cloth, and put it in the warm oven to prove, and then after casting aside her apron she dashed outside after Ruth to see what all the noise was about.

There was no one around, they started to walk in the direction of the singing, Fenala looked around when she heard the slap of bare feet on the ground, and a young boy ran past. "What is going on?" she yelled.

"It's the messiah, he is riding into Jerusalem on a donkey" he grinned back at her, and then was gone.

"It's Jesus" Ruth laughed, and ran after the boy, Fenala hurried after her.

And then she turned a corner, and saw the large crowd, and in the middle was a man, the man riding on a donkey. The street was covered in palms from the tree, and the people they were singing, this time she could make out the words.

"Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!"

--

It wasn't many days before joy turned to sorrow, happiness became gloom and delight turned to horror. Nicasius had come home in the early hours of the morning, his face wretched beyond belief, "they have arrested him" he sobbed, "they have arrested Jesus."

And now, Fenala found herself in Jerusalem as the crowd that had worshipped him called for his blood. "Crucify him!" they shouted, "let his blood be on us and our children!"

"How could they?" she sobbed, as she saw them lead the holy man into the headquarters of a Roman army. She could only hope that somehow Nicasius was able to change Pilate's decision, this holy man should not die, he was too good, too caring, too loving. She hugged herself in terror and waited, she knew that what ever was going to happen would happen now, time was in the essence, if Pilate didn't listen then Jesus was doomed.

Her hope in her master wasn't displaced, he tried to talk to the Procurator of Judea but although the man didn't want to execute Jesus, he felt his hands were tied. And so, once they had tortured and humiliated him, they brought Jesus out, only clothed in a linen undergarment, which for a Jew was a shameful thing. They had placed a crown of thorns on his head, and Fenala noticed that it was hawthorns, its berries mingling with the blood that trickled from his scraped head, the usually healing plant used to harm. He was staggering under the weight of two thick tree limbs tied together to form a cross.

Fenala shuddered, she had seen and heard about crucifixions before, they caused horrifyingly painful deaths, for the man that had healed and cared for the people, to be hurt in such a way was horrendously shocking.

Jesus hadn't gone far, before his slight body could no longer carry the immense weight of his cross. He fell under the weight of them, and couldn't get up again even with the whipping he was receiving.

A man was stood beside her, his face was as white as the flour from a bakery, one of the soldiers approached him, and dragged him towards Jesus. He pointed at the cross and said "you carry it." The large muscled man picked it up with ease, and carried it, Jesus following him.

All along the way, people spat at him, and shouted, screamed and swore, but Jesus meekly continued to walk, his eyes on his death, and glory.

Fenala followed them; tears flowed down her face at the treatment of the man who had brought her life, when she only had certain death to face. They came to the hill, where two men were already being crucified. Pain filled their faces, but even so they stared at Jesus and mocked him.

The man carrying the cross put it down, and backed away, she came and stood next to him, and saw in his face, as he did in hers, how much the man before them had touched their lives. For a moment she phased out, the scene too terrible to see, but then she heard a gasp from the crowd, looking towards the Lord; she saw that nails had been hammered through his wrists deep into the wood of the cross. The soldiers did the same again to his ankles. The pain in his eyes, when they raised him up was like nothing she had ever seen before.

"He saved others, why can't he save himself?" a voice shouted from the crowd and they started to abuse him again.

Jesus' eyes seemed to follow her, even on the cross, dying he filled her with hope and love. It emanated through his face, he loved the people that were hurting him, that were murdering him.

"Is that your master?" a voice asked in her ear, she turned and saw her friend Joseph.

"What?" she asked but then saw what he meant. Nicasius was stood at the foot of the cross, the visible sign of Roman superiority. "But….." she stuttered, "but he said he was going to try to stop this happening, not be part of it."

"Don't be hard on him" Joseph kindly told her, "he doesn't look very happy to be there."

And indeed he didn't, he kept glancing up at the man and with each look his face became even paler. When the crowd hurled abuse, he frowned and gripped his sword tighter, ready to stop any that would try to add to the holy man's pain.

Jesus had been on the cross for quite some time, when the sky suddenly went dark. It lasted a long time, fear gripped the crowd; many muttered that maybe he was the Messiah after all, some started to cry, about what they had done. But the Pharisees laughed and continued to shout insults.

It was at this time that Jesus' eyes found Joseph, "it is time" he shouted, "no longer will you be called Joseph, you are Barnabus, the son of encouragement. You will go into the lands of the Gentiles, bringing my love to them."

Joseph now Barnabus looked at Fenala, but heard the Christ continue "your path is not her path; I have a different journey for her."

He looked upset, but Fenala shook her head, "I always knew that your destiny wasn't mine, I think I know what mine is" and she quickly hugged him, and then pushed her way through the crowd to her master, she saw him lift his sword until he realised who she was. "Fenala, you shouldn't be here, this is not a sight for you" he said.

"But where else would I be, then by the man who gave me new life" she asked, to which he shrugged.

--

It was at the ninth hour that Jesus lifted up his head, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthan" he shouted, and then died.

At the very moment of his death, an earthquake took hold of Jerusalem, shaken it to the core of its being.

"He really was the Son of God" Nicasius stated, holding Fenala in his arms.

--

In the days that followed, they were due for more surprises, first was the story that Jesus had come back to life. Then there was the story about the coming of the spirit of Jesus, washing over all the disciples.

Lastly, Nicasius called Fenala into the atrium, "I am going back to Rome" he told her, "and I want you to come back with me, not as my servant but as my wife. I have already spoken to Peter, and he says he would love to officiate at the first Christian wedding, so what do you say?"

Fenala shrieked with happiness, "I have loved you from the first time I saw you, but now" she smiled, "with the love of the Lord within our relationship, I believe we will be very happy."


	8. Fleisha, 305AD

**Christians in Rome,**

**Making themselves known,**

**Is it a mistake? **

**What do you think?**

**They just shouldn't blink.**

**Down through time,**

**Will they be fine?**

**Will they escape?**

**Or will they be beaten?**

**And maybe eaten?**

**--**

**Fleisha was a Christian, as was her family and many of her friends. It wasn't something she publicised; it was too dangerous to do that. Danger was on every corner, whispered on lips that ached to betray them to the Romans.**

**To be a Christian in Rome, during Emperor Diocletian's rule was a precarious thing. They met in basements and tunnels, always on the outlook for spies, and those that hated the Christ religion and would sell their lives for a loaf of bread.**

**And it was unsafe; Fleisha remembered a time playing with a girl, her best friend. Marisha had been dragged out of her house in the dead of the night, and paraded along with her family as subversions of Rome. From what she knew, and her parents had tried to keep as much of it from her, Marisha had been beaten, she had been attacked and told to deny the Christ, but she hadn't so she had been led into the Coliseum, to face the ferocious lions for the amusement of the emperor and the affluent citizens of Rome. She had been torn apart.**

**Fleisha's friend was by now means alone, many others had met their end in that arena. Some hadn't faced wild beasts, some had to fight gladiators, and some were nailed onto crosses like their dear Messiah.**

**So they hid, seemingly respectable Roman citizens to the outside world, secretly worshippers of Jesus.**

**--**

**Fleisha was a very lucky young lady, most girls had to work by the time they were her age, but her family were a respected one so she was tutored at the only Schola in Rome that took girls, she learnt Roman law, history, customs, values and moral behaviour, bravery, reading, writing and arithmetic. She read both scrolls and books, and wrote with a stylus on wax boards to compete her homework.**

**She also learned about the classics, Roman and Greek, Homer's Iliad, the Odyssey.**

**It was during a particularly hot day at the Schola, that the heat became unbearable indoors. Their teacher had allowed them to go outside and try to enjoy the light breeze, Fleisha sat on the dusty ground listening to the teacher droning about Plato, she idly drew her finger through the dirt, making what to most looked like a scribble, to her it meant so much more, it was their sight, the Christians, it was how they knew who was a believer and who wasn't.**

**Another girl was sat next to her, she learnt over and drew the rest of the sign, to make a fish, she then turned to Fleisha and smiled, joy imbuing from her eyes.**

**Fleisha smiled back, and reached out and grabbed the girl's hand. "I'm Fleisha" she whispered hoping that the teacher wouldn't notice that she was talking in class.**

**"I'm Marcia" the girl murmured back, "I have just arrived in Rome with my parents, I come from Ravenna."**

**Fleisha stared at the girl in astonishment, she had heard of what the emperor had done to the Christian of that town, many had been rounded up and pushed into a deep hole especially dug for the purpose. They had landed on top of each other, those who fell last crushed the life out of those who had fallen first, children, men, women it hadn't mattered, they were all thrust in to their death.**

**Fleisha shuddered, and looked at the pain that was now evident in Marcia's eyes, "we will talk later" she promised.**

**--**

**Another pair of eyes had watched Fleisha doodle in the dirt, a pair that had watched with interest when the new girl had completed it to make what looked like a fish.**

**"I wonder" the boy thought watching as the two girls talked at the afternoon meal. He would tell his father about what he had seen go between them, he would be really interested.**

**--**

**"I have never met anyone from Ravenna, though my father said we had family there" Fleisha was telling the new girl Marcia. "Was it very awful what happened?"**

**Marcia gulped, "we were lucky, word came that the soldiers were coming for us, we managed to slip out before they arrived, along with the messenger, the son of good friends. We survived because of the goodness of our neighbours." She looked earnestly at Fleisha, "never believe that all Romans who don't follow Jesus are evil. Without the help of many Roman god believing friends we would be in a hole in Ravenna, covered up with soil forever. They hid us, kept us safe and smuggled us out of the city. My mother, father, my brother, our friend Julius and me, we are all that remains of the two families. My uncles and aunts, cousins all ended up in the death pits of the Romans along with all of Julius' relations. Many Romans think that following Jesus is something horrible, something to be punished, something vile that needs to be wiped from the earth."**

**"There are many good people who don't follow Jesus" Fleisha agreed, "but in Rome you have to be careful as there are always eyes waiting, watching for us to trip up, to show who we are and then…well you know what happens then."**

**Marcia nodded, wiping a tear that threatened to trickle down her cheek, she bit into a think hunk of bread, she chewed it thoughtfully and then nibbled on a small piece of cheese. She took a mouthful of cool water to swallow it all down, and then continued "we have a house near the Templum Vespasiani et Titi, maybe you could visit us there sometime. It would be good to have a friend again, my best friend….." She fell quiet.**

**Fleisha grinned, "I would like that" then she reached out and hugged her, "I lost my best friend too" she murmured, "they threw her to the lions."**

**--**

**The boy watched the two girls, secluded away in a sunlit corner of the Schola; he tried to hear what they were saying, but only managed to catch a few words.**

**"So she lives near the Templum does she" he muttered, "maybe I should follow her home and see what her family is like."**

**--**

**Fleisha strolled home, stopping at some of the late opening stalls, stopping at one she paid for some grapes, wilted by the long hot sun, they were cheaper than those sold in the morning.**

**She popped the sweet fruits into her mouth, as she walked the rest of the way home, arriving just before sunset. She turned at the Basilica Julia, her home just behind it.**

**"Mama" she called as she entered the cool interior, "mama I am home."**

**A matronly woman hurried towards her, "you are late today Fleisha, your father was just about to go looking for you. We were worried, after all the snatchings recently, Christians taken off the streets, and ending up in the Coliseum, I was scared."**

**"I am sorry mama" she hugged the older woman, "mama I made a new friend today. I was drawing in the dirt, and drew half of the Ichthus….."**

**"Oh Fleisha I have told you to be careful, what if a spy had seen what you had done? Even now you could be lion food."**

**"I am sorry mama, I know you don't like me drawing it" she apologised, "anyway, this girl sat next to me, Marcia, she is new, she leant over and finished it off." She stared at her mother, "mama there is a Christian at the Schola, she is from Ravenna, and her family managed to get away from the atrocities there, she has invited me to come to her home."**

**"From Ravenna?" her mother's eyes gleamed with tears, "are you sure?"**

**"Yeah, she told me all about it."**

**"If they could escape, then maybe my sister and her family did as well" she murmured hopefully.**

**"You have never told me much about your sister mama" Fleisha suddenly realised, "what was her husband's name, did she have children?"**

**"I don't know, we fell out, she knew that your father was a Christian and thought that I shouldn't be marrying him. That I should marry a good Roman boy, we never talked again. She moved to Ravenna, and I heard that she married and had children, but that is all." She sat down on a stool heavily, "oh what have I done?" she wailed, her hands tearing at her hair, "all those years wasted, and now she has gone."**

**"I will ask Marcia, maybe she has word of your sister, my aunt" Fleisha said, trying to comfort her mother.**

**"Maybe" her mother sobbed, "maybe."**

**--**

**That weekend, after a half day at the Schola, Fleisha found herself entering a small wooden home, about to spend the night at her new friend's house. It was a simple place; all its rooms surrounded one central outside living area, where Marcia now led her.**

**"Mama" she called, "this is Fleisha, my new friend."**

**"A woman was sat at a table, shelling peas into a large iron pot. When she saw the girls she stood up, and wiped her hands on an apron. "Hello" she said; a smile on her face. "I am so glad that Marcia has made a friend so soon" and she swept the astonished girl into an enveloping hug. "While you are here, this is your home, now tell me all about yourself. Marcia has already told us a lot, and we know you are a Christian, but as we love the Lord too, there are no secrets required here."**

**Fleisha was shocked to find such a foreword woman, and as she looked at her, she seemed strangely familiar. "Have I met you before?" she asked, wondering where she had seen eyes like the woman's before.**

**"No, I used to live in Rome when I was a girl but that was a long time ago, long before you would have been born." **

**Fleisha shook her head, she would think about it later. **

**"Mama I am taking Fleisha to my room. I want to show her the special scroll you got me fro my last birthday" Marcia said, pulling her friend away from her inquisitive mother. "She would have wanted to hear your whole life story" she explained her rudeness to her friend.**

**Fleisha followed her friend into the back of the house that was when she saw him. A boy was walking out of a room, the sun from the garden lightening his hair. His nose was immerses in a book, but when he sensed that someone was there he looked up, and revealed startling blue eyes.**

**"Who is that?" Fleisha whispered once he had past, she could feel her heart beating and felt sure that the whole house must hear it.**

**"Oh that is Julius" Marcia said offhandedly. "He always has his nose in a book. I suppose learning is good, but the boy is so boring."**

**Fleisha didn't think Julius looked boring, her heart didn't think that either.**

**--**

**"Julius is so cute" Fleisha murmured when they were safely in Marcia room, "do you really not like him?"**

**Marcia laughed, "of course I like him, but he is more like a brother to me, not anything else." She looked at her friend's pink face, "you like him don't you?"**

**"He is beautiful, that blonde hair is wonderful, and his eyes are an intense blue. Plus I noticed the book he was reading is my favourite book, anyone who likes the epistle of St. John is alright by me."**

**"Are you in love?"**

**Fleisha blushed, and tried to look away. "I wouldn't say I am in love, but my heart certainly started beating faster when I saw him" she admitted. "I'm surprised you couldn't hear it."**

**"Well you better get hold of it" Marcia grinned, "we don't want the sound of it spoiling dinner and as Julius will be there, your heart has more racing to do."**

**--**

**Marcia's mother had inadvertently sat her next to Julius, much to her friend's amusement. Fleisha tried to delicately sip the hot pottage, but with hunks of meat in it that was easier said than done. She stared at the contents of her plate and tried to keep his proximately to her from making her choke.**

**The situation was made even worse when he leant past her for the plate of bread, his lightly haired arm brushing her. He smells heavenly, of books and bread, grass and sunshine.**

**"Did you have a good day today Julius?" Marcia's mother asked him.**

**He swallowed quickly, and smiled a smile that melted Fleisha's heart, "Yes thank you Elissa, I spent the day in the library, studying" he said proudly.**

**"Julius is going to be a doctor" Elissa, Marcia's mother informed her, he has been training with the best doctor in Rome."**

**Now Fleisha was even more attracted, she had always felt a desire, a need to help others, "that must be really interesting" she said to him, "maybe you could tell me about some of your training. As a girl, I can't be a doctor but I would love to have some of the skill you have so that I could help people in my lowly own way."**

**Julius stared at her, for the first time interested in Marcia's friend. "I can give you some books to read if you like" he said.**

**She nodded quickly, excitement welling up within her. "I would really like that" she exclaimed.**

**--**

**After a wonderful night spent with her new friend and her family, along with the fascinating Julius Fleisha hurried back home, knowing that her parents would be waiting for her before they went to the underground church they attended. **

**Her parents were waiting for her, as she walked into their home, they hurried her to the secret door they had put into the floor that led down into the basement, and through a carefully dug, by them, tunnel to where their brethren were waiting for them.**

**"Brother Titus, sister Elianna and young Fleisha welcome, we were getting worried about you."**

**"As you see brother Petros, we are here, we were just waiting for Fleisha, she stayed at a house near the Templum last night, with her new friend."**

**All heads turned to Fleisha.**

**"My friend, Marcia and her family, they are Christians from Ravenna; they managed to escape and are new in Rome. I think they attend the Church over by the Templum."**

**The pastor nodded, "I have heard that a family from Ravenna had arrived and attending that Church, though I didn't have any actual details, we all have to be so careful."**

**"Did you ask about my sister Fleisha?" her mother asked.**

**"Mama I forgot to, I'm sorry."**

**"But your sister wasn't a Christian" Titus, Fleisha's father commented, "they wouldn't have touched her."**

**Elianna shook her head, "the last I heard, she had become a Christian and being in Ravenna I worry that she was thrown in one of the pits."**

**"I am sure that Elissa is just fine" Titus put his arm around his wife.**

**"Elissa" Fleisha cried out, "my aunt is called Elissa?"**

**"Yes, she was called Elissa, my big sister" Elianna moaned.**

**"Mama, Marcia's mother, she is called Elissa. Do you think, is it possible that your sister and Marcia's mother are one and the same?"**

**"The Lord works in mysterious ways" the pastor smiled.**

**-- **

**After Church had finished, Fleisha led her parents over to where Marcia lived. But when they got there it was surrounded by Roman soldiers. They hung back, and surreptitiously watched the house, talking to a stall holder to mask what they were doing.**

**Soon, Fleisha noticed activity around the house, and saw Marcia led out in manacles, along with her family, and Julius.**

**"My sister" her mother gasped next to her, "it is my sister Elissa."**

**Fleisha saw that her mother was looking at Marcia's mother. The family being led away; were her relatives. Along with them, were many she didn't know, she assumed that the Romans must have raided the Church they attended as well.**

**"Titus, we have to save them" her mother gripped the front of his tunic.**

**Fleisha's father caressed the top of her mother's head, "I will do all I can" he promised.**

**--**

**Marcia stared at through the rough wooden slats of the cart that was bumping along the road. Her mother was sat next to her sobbing, her hair wild and in a mess. Her father's face was grim, and the boys looked paler than she had ever seen then.**

**"Dirty Christians" someone shouted, and pelted the cart with rotten fruit and vegetable matter.**

**"We come all the way from Ravenna, only to be caught here in Rome" her mother, Elissa moaned.**

**Marcia sat on the rough floor of the cart, and put her arm around her mother. "Mama, it will be alright" she said, though in her heart she didn't know how things could get better.**

**"Oh Marcia, you and your brother are so young" Elissa cried, "you have only just begun your life, and now…"**

**"We will be alright mama."**

**Her mother looked up at her, "maybe if we deny we are Christians, we could say that it was a mistake."**

**"No" Marcia's father interrupted her; "we will not do that. We will not betray the Lord. We will stand firm, and if we die then if it was good enough for him, then to die violently is good enough for us."**

**"Yes, you are right" Elissa agreed, "I'm sorry" she said, not to those in the cart, but the heavenly ears that listened to each word that she said.**

**--**

**"Pack our things" Titus told Fleisha's mother when they got back to their home. "Don't pack too much; we will have to leave most things behind. I am going to see our neighbours to tell them we are going to visit family in L'Aquila and to ask them to keep an eye on the house when we are away. We will go and see my brother, and then make our way up out of Italy."**

**"But what about Marcia?" Fleisha asked.**

**"I am going to find a way in to them. Somehow, and God willing, we will meet you here tonight. If we are not here by nightfall, I want you to leave Rome without me."**

**Fleisha watched her father hurry down the street, and then started helping her mother gather what they would need.**

**"We need to take only the essentials" her mother told her, "pack some of your clothes."**

**"What about Marcia? She will need clothes too."**

**"Yes she will, is she about the same size as you?"**

**Fleisha nodded.**

**"Okay, pack six outfits, three for you and three for her. I will pack extra clothes for my sister, and for her husband and the two boys."**

**"Crispin, Marcia's brother is much smaller than father. His clothes will be too big."**

**"We will have to manage."**

**Fleisha hurried to her room, and started throwing clothes in a small satchel. Then she took it into her mother's room, and together they organised as many clothes as they could.**

**This done, they then went to the kitchen, and put dried meat, bread, fruit and vegetables and grain into baskets. Lastly they loaded this all onto the small cart they owned.**

**--**

**Each step a prayerful one, Titus hurried to the Tullianum, where they kept the Christians waiting to be executed. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, that if he was found out to be a Christian then his life would be forfeit, possible too that of his wife and child. But he had to try, and he had to have faith.**

**So with trepidation in each step, he walked to the prison, hoping that God was with him.**

**When he got there, he found it strange that the guards that usually watched over the doors were missing. He took this as a sign that what he was doing was God's will, and pushed the door open and entered the fort. Again there was no one around, he hurried over to the steps that led down to the prisoners' cells, thanking God that as a child he had visited this place as an excursion with the Schola.**

**"Where is everyone?" he muttered, hastening down the stone steps.**

**He entered the darkness of the underground prison, and stopped to pray, asking the Lord which way he should go.**

**"To the left" he heard a voice reverberate within his head, and feeling these words echoed by his spirit, he started down the long corridor.**

**Most of the cells were empty, their doors flung wide to reveal to inhabitants but soon he could hear sobbing up ahead, and knew that he was nearly there.**

**In the dark he nearly didn't see the large man snoozing on a stool, a large key attached to his belt. He was right in front of a door from which he could hear the sobbing louder now.**

**He carefully reached for the key, and silently slipped it off the hook on the man's belt. Then he quickly put it in the lock, and twisted. Thankfully the lock was well oiled, and only made a small click, not loud enough to wake the guard.**

**Titus opened the door, and slipped into the cell, beckoning the occupants, one who he recognised as his sister in law; he put his finger to his lips to bid them to be silent, and then led them out of the cell, past the snoozing man, along the dark corridor, and out into the bright sunlight, that made them blink.**

**There was still no one in the court yard, and they headed for the outer door. They had just reached it when they heard a commotion coming from the depths of the prison. The sleeping man had awoken and realised that his prisoners were gone.**

**"Quick" Titus urged, pushing them through the door, while hoping that the guards had not come back.**

**They found themselves out in the market, a bell started to toll within the prison grounds, so they hurried on their way.**

**--**

**They were ready; the donkey was hitched to the cart which was loaded with as much as they dared to take. Now they waited, hoping and praying that their loved ones would still arrive.**

**--**

**It was nearly dark, the fugitives hurried on their way, finally reaching the home of their rescuer, but when the two women saw each other, there was no time for greetings, the Romans were already searching for them.**

**"Quick, put these on" Elianna passed clothing to her new found family. **

**Fleisha would have giggled at any other time, as the men put women's clothing over their heads, but now was not the time for mirth, now was the time to flee.**

**--**

**Titus sat at the front of the cart, reigns in hand; he guided the donkey towards the gate of the city**

**"We have to get away" Fleisha repeated in her head, over and over again. "Please Lord, let us get away."**

**Finally they were through the gate, and in the Roman countryside, starring up at the stars in the dark sky.**

**But still they stayed quiet, as the donkey led them away from the evilness of those that would end their lives.**

**--**

**"What do you mean, they got away?" the man screamed, "where were the guards? How did someone managed to get into the Tullianum without being stopped, arrested?"**

**"There was a fight in the market place" the man tried to explain, "the guards went to stop it."**

**"Why? That isn't their job. Anyway what about the guard that was supposed to be guarding the prisoners? What was he doing? How did they manage to get the cell door open, when he had the key?"**

**"Well, it seems that the guard, he was asleep" the man mumbled.**

**"He was what? Asleep? I will have his head for this."**

**--**

**The boy rubbed his hands in satisfaction, he loved a public killing, be it one of the Christians or a Roman. He didn't care, he just loved to see blood squirting from wounds, he loved to see people dying. Still he was annoyed that these prisoners had escaped, it had been his information that had been instrumental in the Christians being arrested. He had been looking forward to seeing his work coming to fruition.**

**"Father" he suddenly said, looking at his angry parent, "someone will be going after them, won't they? Can I go too, I am nearly a man, I am fifteen now."**

**Rage fled from his thoughts when he looked at his precious son, the child that was growing up to be so like him. "Yes, I think that would be a wonderful learning experience for you. I will organise it myself. Just one thing though, if you can't bring them back to be executed, then find them and kill them, scalp them and bring that back to me."**

**Evil joy filled the boy's eyes, "yes father."**

**--**

**They travelled through the night, and eventually they came to Titus's brother's home. Titus banged on the door, and explained to his Christian brother what had happened.**

**Finally they were all inside, and able to rest. But first they had re-acquaintances to do.**

**"Oh Elissa, I have missed you so much big sister."**

**"And I have missed you." She looked at Fleisha, "so Marcia's friend is your daughter?" she asked.**

**"And you are my aunt" Fleisha grinned, and then she turned to Marcia, "and we are cousins."**

**The two girls jumped up and down with glee.**

**"Everyone needs to try to sleep" Titus advised, gratified when his family, actual and extended nodded their heads and followed his sister in law to where they could sleep.**

**"You need to rest too brother" a gently voice told him. "Go on, I will wake you if you are needed."**

**--**

**That evening, when they woke up, it was to find Titus' brother had packed all his families things. "We are Christians too, I think it is time that we left the Roman Empire too, and I have been thinking about going to East Germany, I think we would be safe there.**

**It was a plan, in the cover of darkness they started off for Germany, hoping that they would all make it there in one piece.**

**--**

**Within his spirit, Titus felt the need to travel east to the coast. Common sense told him to travel north, up out of Italy, but he couldn't ignore the calm quiet voice within him that told him to head for the port of the Recanti, it was a voice he couldn't disregard.**

**"Brother" he approached his sibling that night, "brother, we are going the wrong way."**

**"What?" his brother, Simon queried "we are trying to get away from Italia, what way would you have us go, south?"**

**"No, no, it is just I have this niggling feeling that we should be heading for Recanti. I know it makes sense to travel over land, we have a cart for that, but I feel deep within my soul that we need to get a boat over to Zadar."**

**"Are you mad? How would we travel without the cart? No I have decided which way we are going" Simon insisted.**

**"I have to follow what I think the lord is telling me. You continue the way you think but as for me and mine, we are crossing over to Zadar. We will trust the Lord."**

**"You must do as you think" Simon stated in no mood for an argument. "I will wait for you in Munchen, though I think I will be waiting for you a long time. It could take you months to reach me."**

**"We will see Simon, we will see."**

**--**

**The next day, Fleisha watched her uncle and his family with sadness as they drifted away from them. Would they ever see them again she wondered. She put these sobering thoughts away, and turned to look at the land before her. A land that she had never been to, a land that she knew nothing about.**

**"What is it like in Zadar?" she asked her father.**

**"I don't know Fleisha, but we will find out soon."**

**She stared at the fast approaching land, its whiteness startling against the backdrop of the deep blue sea.**

**"It is very pretty" Elianna stated, her arm around her long lost sister.**

**"Yes it is" agreed Titus.**

**"Zadar is a wonderful place" the boat owner grinned a toothless smile at them. "Its market place is legendary, and its people the friendliest in the world."**

**"Let's hope so" Fleisha heard her father mutter.**

**--**

**When they finally got to shore, they were met with an array of colour. The inhabitants of the town were all dressed in exotic clothing. Where everyone wore white in Rome, here they wore an array of colours, purples, reds. yellows, pinks, it was dazzling to the eyes, but also managed to lift their spirits. **

**"Where do we go now?" Elianna asked, as they carried their belonging s through the noisy streets.**

**"I don't know" Titus told them, all the while praying that God would meet their needs.**

**A man walked up to them, "do you need somewhere to stay?" he asked, "my name is Petar, and I have a spare room in my house, if you want it. I felt that I should help you."**

**"Thank you Petar, and yes we do need somewhere to stay but we haven't much money."**

**Petar waved at Titus, "it doesn't matte about money" he said, "just to do a good deed is payment enough. I quite often have people who have come over from Italia to stay. You would be my honoured guest."**

**Titus put his hand over Petar's, "I am most grateful to you, you don't know how much this means to us."**

**--**

**Petar's house was different from the ones they had left behind in Rome. Their nearly all the homes were white, either made of stone, or from wood covered in white clay. But in Zadar the houses were made of wood, with thatched roofs. They sat at a wooden table, along with their host's family, eating the simple fare of bread with a rabbit stew. To Fleisha it tasted heavenly, for it had the taste of freedom to it.**

**Petar scattered some flour on the table, and then drew in it. He looked expectantly at Titus, who leant over and completed the fish.**

**"You are a believer?"**

**Petar nodded, "and so are my family."**

**--**

**Fleisha sat in the room that had been given them, everyone else was asleep, but she just couldn't sleep. She felt something was wrong. Timidly she crept out of the room, and into the moonlit corridor that led to outside. She could hear voices murmuring out there. She tiptoed silently to the door, and listened.**

**"I will get a pretty penny for these Christians" came Petar's voice.**

**"But they have children, can we give them up to the Romans, you know what would happen to them" it was Petar's wife, Tresora.**

**"What about our children, they need to live to. Food is so dear these days, I don't like what will happen to them either but necessity breeds compliance to the rules of Rome, we must turn them in."**

**"Well go then, but I want nothing to do with it."**

**"You say that wife but you will still eat the food this money buys, and enjoy the feeling of it in your full belly."**

**"I know, but if you have to do it, then hurry up. I want it over with."**

**Fleisha heard the sound of someone about to come through the door, so she scurried back to her room, panting heavily with fear.**

**--**

**The nearest bed to her, was occupied by Julius, she went to wake him up. "Julius."**

**"What?" he looked bleary eyed at her, "what is it Fleisha?" he said a little too loud.**

**"Ssh" she admonished putting her finger to her lips, "Julius we must get everyone up and out of here" and she explained what she had just heard.**

**Soon they were all awake, Titus looked at his daughter, "let me get this straight, you heard Petar saying he was going to give us away?"**

**Fleisha nodded.**

**"But he is a Christian, he knew the Christian sign."**

**"I know he did father, but I heard him planning with his wife. I think that somehow the sign isn't so secret any more."**

**"We need to go, and now" Marcia's father insisted.**

**"Yes, I agree" Elianna spoke softly, "come on, grab everything and let's go."**

**--**

**When the soldiers came, they only found a red faced Petar. The room was empty, the Christians had fled.**

**"I should have locked them in the room" he mumbled, trying to ignore the angry looks on the soldiers' faces.**

**"Well, where are they?" the lead soldier shouted, overturning a bed.**

**"I don't know, they were here a short time ago" he stuttered.**

**"Arrest him for wasting our time" a voice from outside said, and a sadistic looking young man walked into the room. He looked around in disgust, but then saw something that interested him greatly under the upturned bed. It was a small piece of jewellery. He picked it up, and examined it and then a callous smile came over his face, making him look even crueler. "It is hers, it is Marcia's" he smirked. **

**"What have you found?" the lead soldier asked.**

**"The Christian, the young girl from my school, she always wore this on her tunic." He looked more closely at Petar, "tell me, what did these Christians look like?"**

**--**

**They had slipped away into the darkness, Petar hadn't realised that they had gone, one moment they had been there, the next gone. Now stood on a hill, they stared at the light that blazed from the house they had thought was a sanctuary, but was actually a trap. Soldiers milled around it, and for one second in the light cast from a window, Fleisha saw a young face that she recognised.**

**"It is Apollo" she gasped, "he was a pupil at the Schola, a bit older than us, and he was always eavesdropping."**

**"He is also the son of the leader of the Roman army in Rome" Titus pursed his lips. "It seems we have come to the attention of one of the highest of the high."**

**"Indeed my friend" Marcia's father put his arm around his new friend, "we need to get going, before they see us, before they start searching."**

**Titus nodded, and they started climbing down the other side of the hill, to whatever life would bring them.**

**--**

**They walked through the night, fleeing from tyranny, hoping for a new life, they didn't look back for all that held was death, they left their lives up to the goodness of God.**

**"I'm hungry" Marcia's brother moaned, he was just a little boy and the events of the last few days had proven too much for him. He had tears in his eyes, and his feet dragged as he walked. "When can we stop and have something to eat" he asked.**

**His father turned around and picked him up, carrying him on his shoulders like when he was a tiny boy. "We will eat soon, Corin" he promised his boy.**

**They trudged on, into the morning, stopping to eat their meagre supply of food, and drink water from a pool nearby. Then they walked again, nearly falling down they continued, trying to make as much distance between them and the soldiers, and the young man with evil and blood in his eyes.**

**By late afternoon, they had had enough, they couldn't walk any further. Titus, who had been taught as a child how to hunt, always carried a sling with him, soon came back with two fat rabbits, that he skinned and spitted over an open fire.**

**"What are we going to do?" Elissa asked, weariness bringing her to tears, "We can't trust anyone. Everyone is out to get us, we are as good as dead."**

**"No we are not sister" Elianna admonished, "you have to be strong, if not for anything else, then for your children, we will survive this."**

**"I hope you are right" Elissa cried as she fell into an uncomfortable sleep on the grass.**

**--**

**The next morning, when they woke up they saw the strangest sight, for piled at their feet were bags filled with bread, fruit, meat, and vegetables. There was enough food to feed them for many days, but there was no sign of who could have left it.**

**Corin was already ripping into a strip of dried meat, looking like he hadn't eaten all year, as he ravenously devoured it.**

**"Where did it come from?" Elianna wondered, thinking that not all people were bad.**

**"I don't know" he admitted and looked into another bag, "this one has bedding."**

**"And this one has a tent" Fleisha smiled, showing them the goats' hair material.**

**Pleased with the abundance that God, and the mystery people, had given them; they enjoyed a quick breakfast and then started walking again.**

**Things looked a bit better now; they were not at the mercy of the elements anymore.**

**--**

**He was making good time, the journey had been easy, and Simon knew that he had made the right choice. He just hoped that his brother Titus had been as fortunate.**

**He was nearly out of the country now; he was very near the border. Soon he would be in Munchen, well ahead of his silly brother.**

**The horse plodded along, pulling the cart with Simon's family in it. And then just as they thought they were finally safe, they saw the Roman soldiers, lining the road.**

**Tension filled his body, as he saw them. He knew that it was too late to turn around and find another way. They had already seen him, all he could do was be brave, and rely on God. He pulled the horse to a stop in front of one of the soldiers, and after glancing at his wife, he looked at the man.**

**"Where are you going?" the soldier barked, "we are searching for fleeing Christians, they were last seen in a cart like yours. How many are there of you?"**

**"There is my wife and I and our three daughters" he explained, getting down.**

**The soldier pushed him aside roughly, and then pulled the women off the cart. "Where are your papers?" he yelled, spitting in Simon's face.**

**Simon fumbled in a bag, and pulled out his papers, which the soldier looked at and then flung back into his hands. **

**"Fake" he decided and nodded to the guards, who came forward and bustled them into a prison cart. "You are the prisoners who escaped from the Tullianum" he stated.**

**"No, we are just…." The soldier didn't listen, "burn the cart" he shouted, and we will have the horse."**

**Now they were heading back to Rome, and the vehicle of escape was burning. Simon wished that he had agreed to go with his brother.**

**--**

**Apollo paced up and down, he had spent the night in Zadar, he longed to go after the Christians but he had been told that he had to wait until his father arrived. Impatiently he threw an embroidered cushion across the room. He had to find her, the girl, he had to find her, he felt it within him. He would enjoy watching her scream.**

**He glanced at the broach on the table, and wondered if she had missed it. Did she know that she had given them away? He walked over and picked it up, the pin pricking his thumb, "I promise by my name sake, the god Apollo, the destroyer, that I will find this girl, and make her pay for turning away from the gods."**

**And he threw the broach back on the table and sucked his thumb.**

**--**

**It had started to rain; they had to find shelter and quickly before one of them got ill. Titus had seen a barn in the distance, flashing as lightning forked the sky. "We have to get into that barn" he shouted above the thunder that rumbled ominously in the sky.**

**In the barn, they draped what had got wet across the bales of hay, they couldn't have a fire, it was too dangerous. So they ate a meal of dried meat, and vegetables followed by fruit, they drank water from their water bottles that they had filled up at a spring earlier.**

**Finally they tried to sleep, but the storm outside got worse. Suddenly the barn door came open, and a man appeared, with a cow following him.**

**The man stared at the occupants of the barn.**

**Titus shook his head, and stood up, "I'm sorry for using your barn, but we needed somewhere to shelter from the storm." **

**The man brought the cow in, and put it in a stall and then turned back to them. "You can't stay here" he said gruffly.**

**"I know" Titus answered, and started to gather their things, "we will have to find somewhere else."**

**"No" the man said, "you misunderstand me, "you can't stay here, you can come with me, my wife would kill me if she knew that I let people stay in the barn, you can stay at our home, we have plenty of room."**

**"Thank you" Titus said doubtfully, still remembering the hospitality of Petar and how that had ended.**

**"I ask no questions about why you are travelling, and you need tell me no answers. Just take this as a good deed done to a fellow human."**

**Titus nodded, and urging his family to get up, followed the man out into the storm and into his home.**

**--**

**Simon held the bars of the cart that imprisoned his family. He held no hope, for he knew that deep down he had known that God had wanted them to travel by the way of Zadar, like his brother. But he had thought he knew better. **

**"Look where my vanity has brought me" he muttered to himself.**

**"Father what will happen to us?" his youngest daughter asked.**

**Simon looked at his child, she was so young, only six years old, but today fear her constant companion, she looked younger, so defenceless, but she also looked old, as she looked at the man she had thought would protect her, who had brought her into this situation. He couldn't look at her. He sat down heavily, and put his head in his hands, and started to pray. He prayed for his family that they would survive, not for himself.**

**The cart started to slow down, Simon looking up noticed soldiers up ahead. When they had stopped, the soldier brought a man to look at them.**

**After taking one look at them, he started to shout at the soldier, "you have arrested the wrong people." **

**Simon started to feel hope.**

**"But they travelled in a cart like the one the Christians escaped in" the soldier defended himself.**

**"Where? Show me it."**

**The next words the soldier said quivered as he spoke, "we burnt it."**

**"You burnt it, you arrested the wrong people, and you burnt their vehicle, very clever."**

**The door to the cart was opened, and they were pulled out, left on the road as the soldiers rode away.**

**"What now father?" the six years old asked.**

**Simon stared at her, "it seems like we have to walk" he told her.**

**--**

**After a restful night, Fleisha woke up to the smell of freshly baking bread. She jumped out a bed, and quickly woke Marcia, and the rest of her family.**

**"Are we really safe?" she asked her father.**

**"As safe as we can be" he answered her.**

**Soon they were sat at a kitchen table eating bread and jam, and drinking fresh cow's milk. **

**The man stomped in from outside, and gave them a hearty smile, "you were exhausted last night, so I didn't introduce myself, I am John, and this is my wife Miriam."**

**Titus quickly introduced his family.**

**"Where are you going?" John asked, and then shook his head. "You don't have to tell me, but I am going to the market in Rijeka today. You are all welcome to join me, it would be nice to have some company on the long journey, it takes many days to get there."**

**"That would be most welcome" Titus readily accepted the offer.**

**--**

**Soon they were all sat in an open farm cart, enjoying the feel of the wind in their faces as the land past by them. Zadar was becoming more and more a distant event, as they were finally going at a decent enough speed to get them away from it.**

**"Fleisha" Marcia touched her hand, "you haven't seen my broach recently have you? The one I always wore at the Schola, I think it must be in the bags somewhere, but I have looked and I couldn't find it."**

**"When did you last see it?" Fleisha asked, enjoying the scenery and only half listening, she felt so sleepy from the constant rock of the cart.**

**"Um, I had it when we fled Rome, and when we arrived in Zadar. I remember that man Petar, his wife commented on it that night, and….and…Fleisha!!"**

**She heard the desperation in her friend's voice, and was instantly awake, "what is it?" she asked.**

**"I haven't seen my broach since that night in Zadar, when Petar betrayed us. It must have fallen off, Fleisha, Apollo will have seen that broach, he will know that it was us, that we were the Christians."**

**--**

**"Father" Apollo bent down low, giving his parent the deference he deserved. "Father, the Christians were in Zadar, they fled before I got here. That was a few days ago, they will have quite a big head start on us."**

**Apollo's father's eyes bore into him.**

**"I'm sorry father, the soldiers wouldn't let me go, I was made to wait for you."**

**"Okay, I am here now" the man said, "in the morning we will take our fastest horses and find those perverters of all that is holy, of all that is Rome."**

**--**

**Simon stared at the road ahead, they had walked through all the previous day, and slept in bushes the night before, now callused feet aching they continued their journey. **

**Thankfully the prison cart hadn't gone that far, they had just about managed to cover the distance, and as they turned a corner, they saw their burned out vehicle in front of them.**

**The girls started running, and managed to get to the cart before their parents, their little excited faces soon turned back to tears as they discovered that all their belongings were gone, either burnt to ash, or stolen.**

**"We can replace those things" Simon told them, "and look up ahead, is where Italia joins Duchy of Austria. It won't be long before we are safe in Munchen."**

**--**

**When they had reached Rijeka, John had introduced them to one of his friends. That friend had taken them to Klagenfurt, who had got another friend to take them to Munchen. Now they waited for Simon and his family, hoping that nothing had happened to them.**

**It was during this time that Fleisha asked Julius to teach her about healing. While they waited he had taught her many things, both what he had learnt from the Roman doctors and also what his mother had taught him. **

**He had shown her the only book that he had brought with him, with pictures of human anatomy in it. Fleisha had been intrigued by the book, and how the body worked, and wanted to learn more even more.**

**Julius had told her all about Galen, an important physician who had lived over a hundred years earlier; he had worked hard to increase medical knowledge, he had followed Hippocrates' ways of examination and investigation. He had deliberated on the mechanism of human anatomy, and tested many process so to find real practicable answers to health matters. His biggest role was to meticulously document his complete learning in a succession of manuscripts. It was because of him, that many doctors in the Roman Empire had a basic awareness of practical medicine.**

**He also taught her many of the remedies that he had learned from his mother. Cures for old wounds, for painful stomachs, for headaches.**

**"What should you cover an old wound with?" she had asked.**

**"Unwashed wool applied to wounds with honey will soothe them" he had told her.**

**Through this all, she had continued to gaze at him, finding herself more and more in love.**

**--**

**Apollo's father had arrived with letters from Caesar authorising them to bring the Christians back to Rome for punishment, and if that wasn't possible to make sure that they were dead.**

**Apollo was leaning more towards the latter idea, though the thought of the girl Marcia running away from ravenous lions was a funny thought to him.**

**Just recently, he had been dreaming about her. She was always just out of reach; she would skip away from him. Most disconcertedly of all, in his dreams he didn't want to hurt her, he wanted to kiss her. But she would always run away from him, always one step ahead. When he woke up, his thoughts still bathed in the sweetness of the dream until reality returned and he thrusts these thoughts away with disgust.**

**"I will get you Marcia" he promised, "you will be punished for invading my dreams."**

**--**

**They had been lucky, a passing farmer had given them a ride into Munchen, saving their tired feet, and aching legs. Still they had walked a long long way, and spent many weeks on the road. Now Simon, relieved to finally be at in Germania, searched for a place to stay while he waited for his brother to catch up. At the market place he had heard that there was a spare room available nearby.**

**"Hello" he said when he found the house. "I hear that you have a room spare."**

**The inn keeper nodded, and ushered him in. "Are you from Rome?" he asked.**

**"Yeah" Simon answered, and then more suspiciously asked, "why do you ask?"**

**"Oh nothing really, it is just I have another Roman family staying here, I just thought it was funny that both my rooms should be rented out to citizens of Rome."**

**"Really?" Simon queried feeling worried.**

**He didn't get his answer; he didn't need it, for at that moment a girl came out of a room and down the corridor towards him.**

**"Fleisha? Is that you? How long have you been in Munchen?"**

**"Uncle Simon" Fleisha exclaimed, and shouted out "father, Uncle Simon is here."**

**Simon was soon enveloped by his brother's hug. **

**"What took you so long big brother?" Titus grinned, "we have been here for weeks."**

**--**

**The trail had gone cold at times, they had seemed to have disappeared into thin air, but then something would give them away, setting back on track. Finally he arrived in Munchen, it was on the border of the Roman Empire, the letters wouldn't count for much here, but it was the last chance. If the Christians managed to get further east in Germania, then they would have escaped, he would have no power to find them. He needed to find them now, and quickly. **

**He had tracked them down to a little inn in the east quarter of the city. The raid was planned for early morning; he knew that they would never know what hit them. Still, he had to be sure that they would be there, so unknown to his father he slipped out into the night, determined to punish Marcia.**

**As he walked through the mud filled streets, in the death of night, he felt at ease, no one would dare to attack the Roman general's son, he couldn't be stopped, he knew that, he was all powerful.**

**Just as he reached the inn, he was blinded by an impossible bright light that bled into his soul. He tried to put his hands over his eyes to shield them, but the light couldn't be escaped. It was in his head, and in each fibre of his being, he was lost to it, enveloped in it.**

**"You will not hurt them" a voice echoed from the light.**

**Apollo fell to his knees, frightened beyond anything he had ever felt before. "I'm sorry" he mumbled, "I'm so sorry."**

**"From now on you will not work for the Roman Empire; you will not hurt people anymore. Your name is no longer Apollo, for that means destroyer. You will not be a destructive force anymore, you will be a healer, a giver of hope and love, you will be my tool, bringing my love into people's life. From now on you will be known as Apela, for you will be my breath to world, you will be Apela the Christian."**

**--**

**Fleisha had also seen the light, though to her it was just a twinkle in the night. Nevertheless, she felt it was important. She quickly woke Marcia, and they hurried outside.**

**"Why are we out here?" Marcia asked, still yawning and wanting her bed.**

**"I don't know" Fleisha told her, "I just have a feeling….."**

**They continued walking, and that was when they saw the body slumped on the path up ahead. They ran to the boy, and turned him over.**

**"It is Apollo" Marcia hissed.**

**The boy opened his eyes, and smiled at them, "I am Apollo now longer, I am Apela and I am a Christian. Now we must hurry, for my father will be here before morning, we must warn your family and then flee."**

**Fleisha looked at the boy's face, gone was the arrogance, to be replaced by a peaceful expression, gone was the anger to be replaced by love that shined out of his eyes. "Marcia help" she muttered, and started to help Apela up. "We must warn the others."**

**--**

**They fled in the night. Simon had wanted to leave Apela behind, he didn't trust him but Titus had insisted that he must come too. He felt deep in his spirit that the boy had changed, that the Lord had transformed him.**

**It was just as well that they had included the new Christian, for Apollo had always carried money with him. Therefore the new Apela had more than enough to buy them a cart and horse, along with some supplies.**

**Marcia helped the still weak boy into the back of the cart, and sat next to him. Then she began to talk to her friend Fleisha as if Apela wasn't there.**

**"Do you really think he is a Christian now?" she asked, "it could be a trick."**

**Fleisha looked uncomfortably at the grimace this statement caused to Apela's face. She shook her head at Marcia.**

**"In the past I have done many wrongs" Apela interjected, "I wanted to hurt people, but now that desire has gone, the light of the Lord has burnt it away. There is nothing I can do to prove the words of my mouth, but if you look within your spirit, and ask Jesus, he will tell you whether I am telling the truth or not."**

**By morning they reached Freising, but they didn't stop except to get some more supplies. Soon they were on their way again, and Fleisha decided that she wanted some more lessons from Julius.**

**"How do you treat someone who is having trouble breathing?" she asked, making the blonde haired boy wake up out of his day dream.**

**"Um" Julius looked red faced at the girl he had been thinking about. "One very good thing for someone with asthma is for them to bathe and breathe in the water vapours. This often clears the lungs of the catarrh that clogs them."**

**Fleisha nodded and looked expectantly at him for more information.**

**"Camomile tea is good for counteracting the effects that allergens might trigger, for instance pollen, dust, animal fur can all cause breathing problems. And then there is powdered ginger, which can reduce an allergic reaction. Mullein oil, will relieves a cough, it helps clear bronchial tubes. These are only some of the treatment you could use."**

**Fleisha listened as Julius informed her of more treatment, every so often she would ask a question, sometimes she would just listen enjoying the sound of his voice, and all the new ideas he was imparting to her.**

**Finally, Julius took a breath and glanced at Fleisha, then he smiled. She had fallen asleep. Gently he put a blanket over her still body, and kissed her hand. "Sleep well Fleisha" he sighed.**

**--**

**Apollo's father had been so angry when he found that the Christians were gone, even more so when he realised that his only son had gone with them.**

**He had been seen paying for what the Crhistians had needed, so it was pretty obvious that he had gone willingly, he had turned against his old way of life.**

**"He is my son no longer" he had decided, and after much contemplation determined that he wouldn't chase them any more. He would leave it to the gods to punish the subverters of Rome.**

**Half sad and half arrogantly irritated, he left Munchen and headed back to Rome, never to return. **

**--**

**Finally after many days and weeks, the fugitives arrived in Berlin. Tired, aching and hungry, they decided that they had made enough distance between them and the Roman soldiers, plus this land was not ruled by Rome. They were at long last free.**

**Fleisha jumped out of the cart, and would have fallen on the uneven ground, if Julius hadn't saved her. When he had touched her, a jolt ran up her arm, startled she looked up at him.**

**Marcia started to laugh until Apela helped her out of the cart, and something similar happened.**

**The four young people gazed into each other's eyes, suddenly they had the truth. Fleisha stared at the man who she loved and who loved her, and she knew that here in their new home, she was complete, he was her soul mate, they would become two parts of one whole.**


	9. Forsha, 450AD

**Passing through history again, **

**we leave the love birds in their new home,**

**travelling through time to another girl, **

**one that didn't know about Rome, **

**one that only knew about the **

**Scourge of Europe **

**--**

Forsha looked out of the window at the pouring rain.

"At least my garden will get watered" she muttered under her breath, and then shut the shutters, and sat down. She rested her hands on her slightly swollen belly, and thought about all that had happened in the last year.

Her husband of one year snored gently in their bed, and for a moment she thought about getting back into its warmth.

"No" she said to herself; I have much to do." She put an apron over her work dress, and started making bread, while she waited for the rain to stop.

"I wonder what my baby will be like" she mused, gently touching her stomach. "Three months already" she sighed.

Now at seventeen years of age, she was a wife and about to become a mother.

"This will never do" she muttered to herself, "if I don't make this bread, then we will have nothing for our evening meal."

She quickly made dough, and put it to prove by the fire. Then casting of her apron, she opened the front door to see that the rain had stopped, and been replaced by a beautiful rainbow.

"It is going to be a good day" she predicted, and getting her tools and basket first she skipped off to her garden.

--

When she reached the garden she had dug herself, she saw that everything was growing well.

"I need to replenish my healing supplies" she thought, and started digging some of the bigger more grown plants up.

"I need some Hypericum" she said, holding the yellow flowering plant in her hand. "It is always good for mood enhancing, and over coming depression."

She dug up a spiky aloe vera plant, "this will be good for Blenia's burns."

She became so absorbed in her work, making sure that she took seeds from each plant, and replanted them offering a prayer to God, that she didn't notice that there seemed to be an unease spreading the village. She was just about to head back to her home when she heard a cry from the outskirts, one that filled her with fear.

"The Huns are coming" the voice shouted, "its Attila."

--

Stunned into stillness, she was knocked out of her terror filled trance by the loud noise of her husband hurrying out of their house.

"Forsha, hide" he instructed, "in fact, run away, run to the hills."

And with that, he hurried on his way, still buttoning his shirt, his sword in his hand.

Barriers were being built up around the village, using anything they could find. Bed frames, fences, brooms, carts. Anything to keep the Huns away.

With a moments indecision, she grabbed a piece of wood, and hurried to the makeshift fence. She wouldn't let these Huns destroy her way of life, she would fight.

By now the people of her village were festooning the Huns with arrows, but though some found their mark most harmlessly flew past them.

And then the Huns, the devils on horseback were at the barrier, trampling it down like kindling. There was no nothing that could stop them, it would be a battle.

Forsha gripped the wood in her hands, and waited. One of the barbarians came towards her, but she struck him on the side of his head with her weapon, killing him outright.

She grabbed his sword and went on a rampage, a warrior woman protecting her own, cutting down man after man.

But it was to no avail, as the Huns slashed and cut, ripped her neighbours apart, she was just one pregnant woman in a sea of defeat.

Tired as she was, she kept on fighting, but didn't see the riders before it was too late. They both held a net and caught her in it like she was a fish.

She struggled against it but couldn't get out of it, she was trapped.

When the battle was won, and most of her people were killed, they took her out of the net. She was pushed in front of a large man, who ignored her and pointed to the other women already lining up. She was thrust into their midst, and watched from the side lines as men from her village were murdered by Attila the Hun.

A man was thrust in front of Attila, falling at his feet. He was bedraggled, mud covered and wearing tattered clothes, she didn't recognise him until she glimpsed his beautiful blue eyes.

"Franz" she gasped, realising it was her husband. Trepidation filled her, terror gripped her soul, as before her she saw the barbarian lean down, gaze into her husband's eyes and calmly cut his throat.

Franz's eyes were filled with shock, as he slowly fell face first into the mud, never to arise again.

"The women and children will make good slaves" Attila shouted, "I am sure we can think of at least one thing that they can do."

--

Forsha lugged the bucket of water she had filled at the river. It was brutal work, hard and the fact that her pregnancy was progressing made it harder. The Huns didn't offer her any dispensation when they found out she was expecting, in fact they seemed to work her even harder, taking delight in her discomfort.

"Slave" they would shout at her, dehumanising her in one word. "Bring me food."

She would have to stop what ever she was doing to prepare a meal, getting a beating for being so long once she gave it to the Hun, and another one for shirking in her duties, and not doing the job she had been assigned.

She was black and blue, and ached with every step, but the work never let up.

At night she had been given another sort of job by the Hun she had been assigned too. For a barbarian he was pretty gentle, though this was hardly a concession, for she had seen him on the battle field, he had killed many of her friends and labours.

She walked into the hide house of her owner and poured the water into a cooking pot, and put it over the fire to heat up. Then she started to peel potatoes, and gut and skin a rabbit she had caught before she got to the river. She put these in the pot, and added carrots and other vegetables along with some of the grain that had been stolen from her village.

She was so tired, but she didn't dare relax, she quickly tidied the home she shared with the Hun, and then after checking the food hurried off to her allocated job.

Work in the field was tough, cruel and under the hot sun that day, painful. She had always loved gardening, but she didn't think that the work she was made to do now was that. She had no time for melancholy thoughts and thinking about the past, she had work to do.

There were many women and children in the field, all looking like she felt, ghosts of their former selves, they wore ripped clothing, sunken eyes from their unhappiness and had cuts and bruises showing on their exposed skin. There was a time when Forsha would have hurried to help them, she would have made them healing salves to help their pain, but she wasn't allowed to do that now, she was a slave with no status.

She looked up at the sky, it has turned from blue to grey in moments, she knew it was going to rain, and she knew that she would still have to work the fields. She stepped into the growing plants, and took hold of a hoe; it was her job to cut out all the weeds that might strangle the plants they were growing. She already had calluses on her hands, made by the wooden handle of the tool, and she knew by the end of her shift along with being drenched that she would have bloody hands.

She gripped the too, and started looking for weeds, walking through the now muddy field she hoped that there were no snakes hiding ready to strike her. She saw a weed, one that she knew had wonderful healing properties, cutting it down, she slipped a bit of it into her pocket to make a cure later for her bleeding hands. The rest she put into one of the small carts that children were pushing up and down, the contents that were put on the fires that surrounded the fields. "What a waste" she thought.

--

It was the middle of winter, and the time for her to give birth was nearly upon her. She hadn't been in the field since harvest, but the Huns found more than enough to keep her busy. It was during scrubbing one of the big iron cooking pots that she felt the first pains, she stood up to inform someone, feeling her birth waters gush between her legs.

"Where are you going?" one of the Hun women asked.

"I…, I think I am in labour" she stuttered.

"You are not going anywhere until you have finished your work" the old crone ordered her. "I am going to get something to eat, I will be back later and I better be able to see my face gleaming in that pot."

Forsha sighed, and continued to scrub the pot with water and sand. With each second of work she became more exhausted, and her pains more intense. Finally the old woman came back, and started berating her for not finishing her work to a good enough standard.

"Can you not see she is in pain" a woman followed her into the area, "are you in labour my dear?" she kindly asked.

Forsha nodded, tears in her eyes.

"Come on, come to my tent. I will help you" the woman offered her hand to Forsha.

She dragged herself to her feet, and hurried after the woman, stopping every few minutes to grip her stomach.

Finally, she was laid down on a bed, finally able to concentrate on the most important work she would ever do.

"You are nearly dilated" the woman said after examining her. "It won't be long."

The pain was unbearable, ripping through her like a knife in the guts, another wave starting soon after the first one stopped.

After what seemed like an eternity, Forsha felt the urge to push. She couldn't refuse it; it was the most natural thing in the world. Most miraculous of all, pushing took away the labour pains, as she gritted her teeth, and forced her baby out into the big wide world.

She heard the babe cry, and then came the voice of the crone, "give me the baby, we Huns don't want to raise any foreign whelps, it will be left to the wolves."

"No" Forsha screamed, and tried to get up.

"I am sorry my dear, but it is the order of your owner. There is nothing you can do" her midwife informed her.

"My baby" she bawled, as she fell into unconsciousness.

--

She was rudely awakened the next day, by cold water thrown in her face, and the rough voice of the crone shouting for her to get up. She was made to pack cooking implements, though she felt dizzy and blood dribbled down her legs.

In a daze, she did her work, her heart aching for her child. She even asked the nice woman of the night before, but she had shook her head and said not to mention the baby again.

Before too long, they were on the move, stumbling she walked after her master, each step taking her away from her babe.

--

The woman picked over the remnants of the Hun camp, glad that the barbarians had left their area. Her people had hid in the forests, surviving on ground nuts and any animals they could catch. Now they could start their lives anew, they could reclaim their homes that the Huns had used.

"I just hope that they don't come back" she mumbled aloud, her voice disturbing a flock of birds that had settled on a house. The sound of their wings and cries as they flew of in indignation almost blotted out the thinner wailing noise nearby. "That sounds like a baby" she said, starting to look around even more.

Under a pile of leathers, she found the babe, left abandoned like a bit of rubbish, naked, cold, the baby turned its blue eyes to the sound of its rescuer and let out a piercing cry, with its last vestiges of strength.

"Hello, little one" the woman smiled, "now what is a child like you doing out here?"

--

She staggered along; she hadn't given her anything to stem the birth bloods, so it dribbled down her legs. Finally she could walk no longer, and fell in a heap, ignored by nearly all. She lay there, the damp of the grass seeping through her inadequate clothes. The Huns just stepped over her, leaving her to the wild animals.. With certainty she knew that she wouldn't last long out there, the animals would smell her blood, and tear her apart. Just when she thought that they had left her behind, a rider past her and stopped. The man got off his horse, and crouched down on the wet ground, and gently lifted her blood drained face. Then he lifted her up and put her on his horse, climbing up behind her. He grasped the reigns, and urged the animal after the disappearing Huns.

"Who is responsible for this woman?" he shouted, as he reached them.

Her owner came forward, and crouched at the feet of the horse. "Attila she is mine, I am sorry if she has annoyed you."

"Well, no longer" Attila stated, "I take her away from you." Then he looked at a woman a distance away, "set up camp" he ordered, "and tend to this poor woman."

--

Forsha hugged her empty arms around her aching belly. Attila's instructions had been followed, and she had been allowed to clean up, was given clean clothes, and fed. Still she wasn't given back her baby, she hadn't even seen the mite, she didn't know if it was a girl or a boy. "I will find you" she muttered as she wondered if Atilla's interest in her was like falling from a cooking pot into the fire. What would he want of her? He had seemed caring, kind but she knew that he was anything but that, he was responsible for so many deaths.

There was a commotion outside the tent she was in, and in swept Attila, his importance like a cloak around him.

"You look much better" he commented. He saw the look of worry cross her face, and smiled. "You don't have to be anxious with me; I just wanted to help you. I have enough women in my life already, but it pleased me to save you. There is something special about you, I can feel it. Something that will benefit my people, tell me what is it that you are good at? He looked at her expectantly.

"I am a healer" she stated simply, "in my village, I used to grow my own plants, cultivate them, and then make healing cures to help those of my people that needed my assistance."

Atilla's eyes gleamed with interest, "we have no healer and heavens know we need one. My eldest child, my son has been ill for many months. We don't know what is wrong with him, but if you can cure him, then you will be given your freedom, and raised in status to be my personal healer."

Forsha gasped in amazement, "I will do all I can" she promised, wondering if she was given her freedom would she be allowed her child back.

--

The woman held the newborn baby to her, she was too old to feed the child herself, so she had asked in the village until she had found enough women that could offer the vital nutrition that the child needed. They had organised a rota, and a new mum had just left her home, going back to her own child who would also need feeding.

"What you really need little one" the woman looked down at the milk satiated calm face of the young child sleeping in her arms, "we need to find your mother."

"Donal" she shouted as she heard her son enter their home, "I have a mission for you."

--

Forsha walked into the hut to see a child swallowed up in a large bed. She could immediately see that the boy was exhausted, he was pale, his eyes sunken in his almost skeletal face. He glanced listlessly up at her, and then closed his eyes again, sinking into a worn out slumber as if the small action had worn him out.

She indicated that they should leave him to sleep, and walked back outside. "Tell me about his illness" she instructed Attila.

"You are best talking to his mother, the woman that was inside" Attila told her, and poked his head back into he hut, the woman that she had barely noticed walked out to them.

"Selania, tell the healer here about Tenith's illness" Attila ordered the woman.

Forsha soon learned all she needed to make a preliminary diagnosis. The boy had been ill for nearly a year, in that time becoming a ghost of his old self. He had gone from a robust boy who played with abandonment with the other children, to a child who couldn't even walk without it tiring him out. It had started with diarrhoea and sickness, quickly followed by abdominal pain and weight loss. The boy had a decreased appetite, and often complained that his limbs hurt. He had started loosing his hair, and often used the little energy he had crying, the most recent symptom and most worrying of all was he had been complaining of breathlessness.

"I would like to examine him" Forsha told the anxious parents, "as soon as he is awake."

"But what is causing this illness?" his mother cried.

"I have an idea, once I have looked at him, and spoken to him I should have a better picture. For now, tell me when he does eat, what do you feed him?"

"What everyone else eats" his mother said, "stews."

Forsha nodded, "and in these stews, do you put any grains? Does he eat bread?"

"Of course."

"Mmm, yes I think there is a possibility that he is being made ill by the food he is eating" she mused more to herself than anyone else.

"No one else is ill, it can't be the food" Attila stated. "We would know if anyone was poisoning his food."

Forsha looked at the worried parents, "no you misunderstand, he hasn't been poisoned…."

She was interrupted by another woman exiting the hut, "Tenith is awake" she told them.

Forsha hurried back into the hut, and quickly, and carefully as possible examined the boy. Then after asking him some questions, she turned to Attila, and the boy's mother.

"Well?" Attila demanded.

"He has mouth ulcers, and his teeth are in particularly bad shape for so young a person plus he has a lot of bruises. He has told me that his skin has been really itchy recently."

"And that means?"

Forsha sighed, "when I was a young girl, I helped my mother, the healer of our village, tend to her patients. There was a girl; she had similar symptoms to Tenith, we tried healing cure after healing cure, nothing helped, that was until my mother had a dream. It was a strange vision, and basically told her to change the child's diet, that she was allergic to many grains. That is what my mother did, and the girl got better, became strong again and eventually went on to marry a man from another village. Last I heard of her, she had four children, all her were healthy, though none of them can eat grains."

"Is that all that is wrong with him?" Attila asked, "we just have to change what he eats."

Forsha smiled, the first she had smiled in a long time, "hopefully" she said.

--

Donal crouched behind a fallen tree, watching the assembled people before him as slaves mingled with Huns. He ran his hands through the mud at his feet, and ran them through his blond hair, adding streaks across his face so he would fit it. Then he hurried to a discarded bucket left next to a well, and quickly filled it with water. Then he followed a man as he went about his duties, watering the war horses.

"Hello girl" Donal greeted a mare, patting her flank as he poured water into her trough. He pulled a curry comb out of his pocket and started to groom her.

"Are you new?" a girl asked, "the Huns attacked a village yesterday, are you one of the survivors?"

Donal sent a prayer of thankfulness to God, as he nodded his head, covering up that he had arrived under his own steam.

"Was it very bad?" the girl asked, "we heard that the Huns were brutal, more so than ever before. Supposedly they are looking for a sword and had heard that it was in your village, but it wasn't."

"I have never heard of such a sword" Donal commented.

"It is the sword of the god of war, rumour is that if Attila finds it then no one will be able to defeat him."

"Well let's hope he doesn't find it then."

The girl nodded, "you would have thought that he would have been kinder to your people, he has much to be thankful for. His son has been dangerously ill, but a slave who was a healer made him better, she has been given her freedom, though I don't think he will ever let her go home, she is too useful to him. Look there she is now" the young woman pointed to a pale woman, hurrying into the forest carrying a basket on her arm. "She is going to find plants to make cures."

--

She looked around her, searching for the plants that she knew so well. After treating Attila's son, and changing his life, she had become needed by Huns and slave alike. At the moment she was taking care of a young woman who had been taken in a recent raid. Trikia had been finding life hard to adapt to, her father had been the leader of her village so she was unused to being treated as nothing. In the days since she had arrived, she had relived all that had happened to her people and was beginning to become hysterical. Forsha had decided that she needed to make the woman a calming tea, that would help her to deal with all that had happened. She saw some motherwort and decided to dig the plant up. She pulled out the knife that Attila had given her, and started to break up the earth that sustained the plant, pulling it out and placing it into her basket. She was just about to get up and dust of her soil laden knees when out of the corner of her eye she saw something glint in the earth. She started to push aside the dirt, to reveal a sword that had lain hidden in the ground waiting for someone to find it. While the blade looked like it was made of a touch metal, the handle was of yellow gold and was encrusted with jewels, with diamonds, sapphires, rubies, emeralds.

She hated weapons and would have buried it again, but something within her made her head towards Atilla's hut. She knocked on the door, and when she heard the leader bid her entry, she went him, presenting the sword at his feet, with trepidation and trembling.

"It is the sword of Mars" Attila mumbled, picking it up with reverence. He looked at Forsha with thankfulness, "now I am can't be beaten, how can I thank you?"

--

Forsha had asked Attila for her child back, he had been angry when he had learnt all that had happened to her, and went he found out the child had been abandoned when they had moved, he was beside himself with grief. He had called Forsha to him, and told her what he knew, informing her that those that had been involved in the inexcusable events had been executed'

"I am sorry Forsha" he had told her, "but the child is gone."

News soon went around the home of the Huns about all that had happened and Donal on hearing of it realised the significance, that Forsha was the child's mother. Secretly he went to her, and told her all he knew.

"So my baby is alive, it is alright?" she had asked, "is it a boy or a girl?"

"The baby is being looked after by my mother, she sent me to find you and bring you to the child. As to what gender it is, I am sorry I don't know."

That night, they began to plan their escape. Forsha started to horde food, packing it, and placing it in hiding around the hut Attila had given her. Donal managed to get some horses and a week later, they started their escape.

They slipped away in the night, travelling all of the next day. Eventually they reached Donal's home, and Forsha entered the home that she had given birth in, seeing an old woman by the fire, she held a bundle in her arms.

Forsha stepped forward, reaching out for the baby.

"You have a lovely little girl" the old woman smiled, happy to see the reunion.

Forsha stared into the blue eyes of her daughter, happy to be with her again, feeling that missing part of her replaced, "hello little one" she sighed happily knowing now all was well. As long as she had her child she could cope with anything that came.

"What will the future hold?" she asked the baby, and just for a second saw a vision of a blonde haired young woman, dressed as a man.

--

Forsha escaped from the scourge of Europe,

But would she be safe in that home?

So she moved with the woman, and her new husband, Donal,

Taking her daughter to a new land in the North.


	10. Thora, 793AD

Now many years later Thor stares at his home,

As he stands on the deck on the boat he is on,

He leaves all that he knows behind,

And looks to the future,

As a Norsemen invading Britannia.

----------------------

Thor 793AD

Thor ignored the sea that burst up over the side of the boat, soaking him to his skin. He was sat in the longboat, rowing for all his worth.

"I can see something" he heard one of his comrades' shout.

It couldn't be land; they were in the middle of the North Sea, between his home Esbjerg and the land they would be invading. There was nothing out there, except the sea.

Nevertheless, Thor grew excited, and grinned at his gruff companions. "Maybe it is a boat" he laughed.

Stony faced, the men looked back at the excitable youth, "you act more like a girl every day" one of them commented dryly.

Thor looked uncomforetably aside, grateful when he heard the call of "it's a whale, we can have a whale hunt."

------------------

Thor hadn't always been known by that name. When he had been born he had been named Thora, she had been dressed in pretty dresses, and her blonde hair had been grown long. Her mother had brushed it each day, tying it up in plaits, and ribbons. But when Thor's parents had died, killed by the brutal people that lived in their land, she had laid aside her pretty name, her pretty clothes were replaced with more serviceable ones, and she pretended to be what she wasn't, male.

Now sat in the boat, she had shuddered when one of the men said she was like a girl, he didn't know how right he was. All grown up now, she tied material around his breasts, and would rub mud into her sworn hair, and on her pretty face. No one realised what she was, and that was the way she liked it. It was the way she survived the brutal male world.

-----------------

Thor stared out at the grey churning sea, mesmerised when she saw the back of a great beast swimming just below the surface, and the spout of water it threw up into the air. She felt almost sorry for what they were about to do, but excitement also filled her spirit as she saw one of the men pick up a harpoon. Thor watched as the man aimed it towards the animal, surprised how fast and true it flew, straight into the whales' side, turning the water into a vivid red as it began to bleed its life away.

"We need to get to it" shouted one of the men, throwing a small raft overboard. He followed it over, along with another man.

All around the longboat this scene was being repeated, as man after man swarmed to the dying animal.

"Come on lad" the lead warrior shouted, "this is a chance you don't want to miss." Then he pushed her overboard.

Thor came up, spluttering in the sea, quickly she scrambled onto a raft, helped the last bit by the man who had pushed her.

By the time they reached the whale, it was dead. The faster men had already started to skin the great beast. They had then cut its flesh off its bones.

"Here you are lad" an older man pushed something red under his nose, "it is the liver, all the whale hunters get to take a bite of it, it is good luck."

Thor screwed her face up at the through of eating the disgusting thing. But she saw all eyes on her, and not wanting to appear girly, she timidly took it from the man, and took a tiny bite, swallowing it with difficulty.

"Yeah" the men shouted, slapping him on the back. "You are one of us now lad, a real Viking."

Soon the boat was loaded with whale meat and blubber, then they started to row with a ferocity that they hadn't had before. By nightfall, they landed on the small island unoccupied island of Fetlar. They set up camp, and then after building some fires, started to cook the meat.

Thor, picking up a mallet started to bash a piece of meat into a long strip. Then she placed it on an upturned shield over a fire to cook. She repeated this process until the shield was full. Over another fire, he spitted a large piece of meat, roasting it. She shouted over to one of the other men to keep an eye on the food, and then went into the forest to forage for some vegetable matter.

A short time later, she came back with his cloak laden with carrots, garlic, other tubers, and some berries.

"What have you there sweet lad?" one of the men raucously shouted.

Thor ignored him. After first checking the meat strips along with the roast, she stared to prepare the vegetables. This done, she put some into a cooking pot along with whale meat one of the men had cut up, and blubber. Adding some grain that they had brought with them, she put it over another fire, and waited for it to cook.

"I have found some apples" another young man close to his age told him. "Do you think we could make a pudding? I miss my mother's apple pie so much."

Thor nodded, and showed the lad what to do.

That night they had a feast good enough for a king. After everyone had had their fill along with liberal amounts of beer, they settled down to hear stories of fighting and gore.

----------------------

Thor feeling comfortably full, snuggled up in her blanket next to the big central fire, and listened to the tale that was weaved.

"There was a time when our people were happy to sit at home, enjoying being with their wives, with their families. They had all they needed to live the lives they wanted to lead. But as more children were born, times changed. Our land became more crowded, where there was plenty, now there was not enough. And so some of our people, the young ones decided that it had to change."

"One young man, Biergh Haraldsson was sick of being a younger son, he held no status of his own, so he decided to make his own. He gathered other disaffected youth, and together they started to raid other towns."

"One night they crept into a sleeping village, staying as silent as possible they went into people's homes, taking their wealth. The raid was supposed to be an easy one, they had decided that if possible there would be no bloodshed, that they would take what they wanted and be gone into the night before the villagers awoke. That was until Biergh went into a home, where a young woman was asleep. She was the most innocent, beautiful maiden he had ever seen, her cheeks were rosy from her slumber, her blonde hair glistened in the moon light, and even though her body was covered, the blanket did little to disguise how voluptuous it was. His eyes were riveted to her face, he couldn't look away. When she muttered in her sleep, a small sigh, it was enough to break him out of his reverie, and realise what he was risking. Nevertheless, he couldn't leave her; quietly he crept closer, cupping his hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream."

"The girl had woken with shock, staring into the black eyes of a stranger. She would have screamed but his hand stopped her. She tried to wriggle away but his hold on her was like iron. She tried to bite his hand, but he replaced it with a strip of material tied through her mouth and around her head."

"Then he picked her up, taking the blanket to save her modesty. Again she tried to struggle, but it was impossible. He carried her through the door, just as she saw her lst vision of her parents; she managed to push the gag away and emitted a loud scream."

"Biergh knew that all had been lost, he knew that some of his friends could be killed that night because of his lust. He ran to the centre of the village where the rest of the men were waiting."

"What have you done now? one of them shouted when they had seen the girl."

"Biergh hurriedly tied the girl up, and then together they faced their enemy, swords lifted up ready to fight."

"As all good Viking battles go, it was a bloody one. Villager after villager were cut down as the raiders went berserk, cutting heads off, slashing stomachs open, and stabbing men through the heart. But it wasn't an easy fight, though the villagers were decimated, they didn't die easily, they took some of the Norsemen with them, men who from dying fighting were amongst the first to enter Valhalla, the resting place of the brave."

"Finally all the villagers were either dead or defeated, and Biergh carried his new bride home."

"And so with time our people got more ambitious and now we travel over the sea, for tomorrow we move south and will invade Britannia"

Everyone cheered at this proclamation though Thor wondered how many of them would be alive the next night.

-----------------------

The next morning Thor woke feeling gritty from the hunt the day before. It was still dark, so she decided that she would have a quick bath in the river she had seen the day before when she had been gathering. After quickly packing up her belongings, she hurried to the river, and took her clothes off, revelling in the feel of breasts unfettered by the restraining material that usually kept them at bay. Thor entered the tepid water, and then fully immersed herself; coming up a minute later spluttering, enjoying how the invigorating water felt running in rivulets down over her body. Thor lathered the soap that she always carried with her, and started to cleanse herself. She had just finished when she heard a commotion coming from where they were camping, and it was getting nearer.

It seemed like she wasn't the only one who had decided that a dip in the river would be good. Her comrades came through the trees, casting aside their clothing as they went. Thor stared at the water, as she shrank down in it up to her chin.

She didn't dare look up, what she had seen had already made her blush a bright red.

"Hi lad" one of the naked men swam up to her, splashing her in the face.

Thor had never been so closed to a undressed male before, it frightened her, making her want to swim away as fast as she could but was afraid that it would reveal even more what she was. She sank as low as she could, and then let the river drift her away. She knew that at any moment one of the men could go under the water and see for themselves what she was.

When she was far enough away, she swam to the side of the river and under the cover of the bushes, and trees that lined in, she got out and hurried to her clothes. She quickly grabbed them, making sure none of the men saw her, and then ran back under cover and got dressed.

"That was a close one" she muttered to herself, and started back to the camp, ignoring the naked men jumping in and out of the water.

A pair of eyes watched her retreating back.

------------

By the time she got back, belongings were already being packed into the boat. Their leader was angry at the men that kept them waiting, and so went to find them.

Thor hurriedly grabbed her things, and stuffed them in the space in the boat that had been allocated to her. Then she sat at her oar, waiting for everyone else.

They were on their way by the time the sun had been out for about an hour. It was hard work, as she strained against the oar, hoping for not too many blisters.

"Come on lads" a voice shouted, and then started to sing.

"The Norsemen are coming,

We are invading your land,

You won't know what's happening,

Until we are at your door."

Everyone laughed, and then joined in.

"The Norsemen are coming,

You are going to get a shock,

When we creep up in the night,

And murder the lot."

Thor joined in "the Norsemen are coming,

You really should run,

We won't show you any mercy,

Because we are murderous men."

When she had finished singing, she noticed that everyone was staring at her, "pretty voice you got here lad" one of them howled with laughter, "not broken yet, maybe you are too young to be a murderous man, you should have stayed home with your mummy."

Thor tried not to blush, she wanted to say something clever, something manly but her feminine mind betrayed her, she couldn't think of anything.

--------------------

They reached their destination by nightfall, it was a small island off Northumbria, tales had been told of the Saxons having a hard time of late, so the Norsemen had decided to use this to their own opportunity.

"When do we attack?" a young man asked.

"Hush" one of the other men cautioned in a whisper, "we have to wait for the other Vikings boats to arrive, but then we will attack in the dead of night."

Thor started to snooze, she wanted to stay awake, enjoy the atmosphere but she knew that she should rest, restore her energy, for soon she would need as much of it as she could get.

------------------------

The hour had arrived, waking up she saw that the sea was now teaming with longboats, she felt her boat starting to silently move towards the coast, and ran to her allocated oar, to help.

Finally they all stood on the beach, their swords unsheaved, ready to maim and kill. They marched up the hill and up to the monastery, the reason for their raid.

They came upon a monk, praying on his knees, he never knew what was coming, for a Viking crept up behind him and slit his throat.

Thor was shocked at the brutality of it. She hadn't realised that death would be that way. She had thought it would be more, calm, peaceful, but it was bloody, brutal. She felt the contents of her stomach rising in her throat. She forced herself to walk on, trying to ignore the violence that her country men were perpetrating. But it was impossible, her face blanched as more men were killed, just for the sin of guarding a monastery. She was just about to enter the building, when she felt a hand grab her arm, and she was pulled to the side.

"Hello Thor" Athol, one of the Viking men, a particularly horrible one, greeted her, "you are looking a bit piqued, is all of the killing upsetting you? I would say a lad like you should toughen up, but you aren't a boy are you?"

Terrified she tried to bluff her way through to safety. "Of course I am" she said, trying to make her voice gruff. "What else could I be?

"You have hid yourself well, but I saw you when you were bathing. I don't know of any boys with fine breasts like yours."

"You're mistaken" she hurriedly said.

"I am, am I? What I saw, well it was more than your chest, I know exactly what you are. But what I want to know is, what are you going to do to prevent me telling the rest of the men?"

"I, I….."

"Well, I have an idea, I could do with a bit of, um, company. I am sure that is the least you could do, because if you don't……"

"What?" she shouted with fear.

"Well I am sure that the men would like a bit of entertainment on the long journey home. So what is it to be, you share yourself with me, or……everyone."

Thor didn't know what to do, she was an innocent, one thing that her mother had always taught her was not to give away her virtue. But now it didn't seem she had any choice."

"I will take that as a yes" he laughed, pulling her face towards his disgusting lips. "mmm, you smell so sweet, when I think of what fun we could have had over here, well we will just have to make up for it."

Thor struggled in his arms, trying to get away, but he was stronger than her. She didn't want this, but it seemed like she had no choice. "Please" she tried to appeal to him, "I don't want…."

"Shut up, I don't rally care what you want, I have needs, and you are going to meet them."

With desperation, she looked around, searching for anything that could stop his assault on her body, but there was nothing. She started to scream, but his cruel mouth bit down on hers, crushing her body, and taking all breathe away from her. His stench overpowered her, making her feel faint.

"No" she managed to mutter, please don't."

He never got the chance to answer, for suddenly he was a dead weight dragging her to the floor. Arms reached in and grabbed her before his weight could crush her, and Thor saw a young man she had never seen before.

"Hello" the young man grinned, "my name is Edward, I think we need to get away from here before your, er companion wakes up."

Thor just stared at him.

"It is okay, your secret is safe with me, as are you. I won't touch you" he promise, grabbing her arm again, "but we have to get out of here."

"How do you know I won't slit your throat?"

"I don't know" he looked deeply into her eyes, "there is something about you that says you won't. I know it is silly, you are a Viking and I am a Saxon, but you know I trust you."

She let herself be led further into the monastery, up to a painting of an old monk. Edward stopped in front of it, and pressed an almost invisible switch, which opened a door, to a dark passageway.

"It will take us to safety" Edward told her, "it goes right under the sea to the mainland."

--------------------------

"What's your name?" Edward asked as they walked through the dank tunnel.

"Thor."

"Thor? That is a funny name for a girl" he commented.

Thor grinned, "Well as my secret is out, then I suppose I could start going by the name my parents gave me." She reached out and touched his hand, "as a child I was known as Thora, you can call me that if you want."

Edward looked down at her in the gloom, "Thora; that is a really pretty name. And yes I would like to call you by that name."

They carried on through the tunnel, finally reaching light they found themselves in Northumbria.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"My mother lives over here, she owns a farm. I am going to ask if you can stay there with us."

----------------------

"Mother" Edward called as they came to the farm, "we have a visitor."

His mother who had been hanging out washing stared at the scared young woman. "What have you brought home this time Edward? You are always bringing animals to heal, but this one looks like a Viking."

"She is a Viking."

Startled, she stared closer at Thora's face, "she?"

"She has been hiding herself as a boy; I came upon her about to be assaulted by a Viking male who had discovered her secret."

"Oh my dear, I am so sorry" Edward's mother's attitude changed once she realised that Thora was a girl. "Come in, come in, are you hungry?"

Thora nodded her head, she hadn't eaten since the morning before, "I could manage to eat a little" she agreed, her stomach affirming this.

"Come on then, my name is Aisa by the way. Why were you pretending to be a boy? No don't tell me now, let me feed you first. You are very thin."

-------------------

Her stomach filled, she started telling them her story. "My father was from this land, he was a merchant, and travelling over to the land of Norsemen, when his boat capsized. He managed to get free of the vessel, but was far out in the sea. He managed to swim some of the way to the coast, but then overwhelmed by the cold, and exhaustion, he blacked out. But he was far enough in that the tide brought him to the shore, and that is where my mother found him. She came from a long line of healers and on finding him, she carried him, dead weight though he was, to the home she shared with her mother. The two women set about looking after him, healing his wounds; he had a cut head where the sail had hit him, and helping him through the fever that came. My mother fell in love with the stranger, and he her, for when he awoke the first thing he saw was an angel, or that was what he said, it was my mother. They married a few months later, and he moved into their home.

"That is so romantic" Aisa sobbed.

"Yeah it was" Thora agreed, "at least until her mother died. Other people in the village didn't like him owning anything that should be owned by their own people. And they started to cause trouble. First of all it was little things, a pebble thrown at their door, spat at in the street, when I was born the villagers called me Thora the swine', insinuating, well you know what they were insinuating."

"They were calling you a pig, and your father, and our people" Aisa's jaw settled in an angry expression.

"When I was eight years old, my mother was about to start my healing training. She had been meaning to do it for years but people had stopped coming to her for help, so she had grown complacent. But one night she told me that they had had enough of being controlled by those people. She said they were going to move. Find somewhere where all of us were accepted, and she told me that when we were settled then she would teach me all I needed to know. That night, they set fire to our home. My father rescued me, and put me outside, but my mother hadn't come out. He went back in after her, and that was when the ceiling collapsed. They were dead and I was alone."

"Oh my poor child, to lose your parents is hard, but at such a tender age….."

"I ran away, so frightened was I of the people who should have protected me. And I decided to cut my hair, as many children of the Norsemen, I carried a knife, so I cut my long locks off, to this stubble. And I stole boy's clothes drying in a garden. I became Thor, the ragamuffin, the boy that wandered from place to place."

"But how did you come to join those Vikings over here on a raid?" Edward asked.

"I wanted an adventure, excitement, I wanted my life to change so I when I heard they wanted men for the attack, I volunteered, but I never realised how brutal it would be, I suppose I am still a child, thinking that it would be a gentle journey, that I would have had fun. I could never imagine that my so called comrades could be so evil."

"Don't be so hard on yourself Thora" Aisa instructed her, "we all like to believe that there is good out there, and there are good people, but there are also bad ones. Now I think we should find you a bed to sleep in, you look exhausted."

--------------------------

Years past, Thora started wearing dresses again; she became Aisa's constant companion and help. Edward organised a local healer to teach them all she knew, and when they married, they became a husband and wife team helping the sick, healing the injured, and caring for those who needed them.

They heard tell that the Vikings had come back, but they had attacked Jarrow, far away.

They had everything they wanted, all that they needed, except for one thing. They had no children. By the time they had been together for five years they were desperate, they researched herbs that might help, prayed to God. But nothing happened.

All around them, their neighbours bred like rabbits, whilst they remained barren. There didn't seem any hope, if two healers could cure a problem, then who could.

So they gave up, they resigned themselves to remaining childless, trying to bury themselves in their work, they remained close, supporting each other, they were still in love, they had just given up on ever have a child of their own,

And as at times like these, with the worry gone, Thora fell pregnant to their utter joy.

----------------------------

He dragged his tired body out of the sea, he was seemingly the only survivor of the longboats, they had been met with a viscous storm out in the sea, and the Viking boats had been battered and tossed, everyone had been thrown into the churning sea.

He had only stayed alive through sheer determination, he had unfinished business that he had been seething about for many a year. He would have his revenge.

He crept up the hill, leading to a village, gratified when he saw someone had left clothes out to dry the night before. Hurriedly he grabbed them, and ran before anyone could see him. Then he changed into the clothes, no longer looking like a fierce Viking, he looked like one of them. It meant that he could intermingle, find out what he needed, he could plan, strategize, and ultimately win the day. Even if it meant that he forfeited his life, he would make sure she died first.

He went back into the village, this time look every inch of him the respectable Saxon, walking through the centre of it, he spied a coin on the ground, and quickly picked it up. "The gods are with me" he grinned, and then on seeing an inn, decided that it would be an excellent place to get the information he wanted.

He entered it, and was greeted by the inn keeper, giving him his coin, he thankfully accepted the mead, and sipped it, revelling in its sweetness. Then he took a seat, near a couple of old women, paying attention to what they said. His idea was soon rewarded, as one of them started to talk about a healer that had helped her daughter birth her baby.

"You know Thora is really a remarkable woman, her and Edward are a match made in heaven."

"Have you heard the story of how they met?"

"Yeah, wasn't she a Viking."

"She came over in a longboat, pretending to be a Norseman."

"It is so romantic, he saved her from a randy Viking, rescued her, brought her to Northumbria, and they fell in love."

"And now they live at Aisa's farm with his mother."

He had heard all he needed to know, he had the information he wanted, taking one last sip of his drink, he left the inn, shocking the gossiping women as the door slammed shut.

-------------------

Thora was the happiest she could ever remember, it was spring, she was pregnant and the baby was due in a couple of months.

But even though she was with child, she didn't shirk her duties, both healing and those that needed doing around the farm. Aisa had been having trouble recently, she was aging, and to make things more easy for the woman she regarded as her second mother, she had decided to take on more tasks.

That morning she left the farm early, she had fed the dog, collected the chicken's eggs, milked the cows, and has just rescued a lamb that had become entangled in brambles. She was about to walk back to her home when she saw him, a murderous look on his face.

"Hello lad" he grinned maliciously at her, "well you certainly look different from the last time I saw you." He stepped forward to touch her golden hair that now tumbled down her back, and over her breasts. "When we were last together your hair was short, shorn like a man would have it, I will enjoy the way it feels when I take what you owe me."

She stepped back, nervously looking for an escape.

"And I see you are blooming, though it would be better if it was my baby in your belly. Though when I take you back, I will make sure as soon as the brat is born, that you have one of mine in there."

Thora gulped, "I won't come with you Athol, you won't touch me."

He laughed, "and who is going to stop me? You?"

She tried to answer him, but her throat was too dry. With desperation she furtively looked around, trying to find something that she could use to protect herself.

There was nothing, she had no escape; he would have his way, she could do nothing to stop him.

Athol took hold of her arm painfully and started to drag her away from her home.

"I will find a boat" he told her, "we will soon have you back where you belong."

She thought all had been lost, that she had no chance, that there was no escape, but then out of the corner of her eye she saw a blur. A bundle of fur ran past her legs and leaped up at the Viking, snarling, teeth bared, the animal bit deeply into his throat, killing him outright.

Athol's body fell onto the grass, already red from the widening pool of blood.

Thora looked down at the grinning animal at her feet, his tongue lolling out of his mouth speckled with fresh blood. For a second to shocked to respond, she then bent down, and hugged the animal "thank you boy."

Drained of all energy, she left the man and walked back to her home. She opened the door and collapsed into a dead faint, as her body couldn't hold her up anymore.

----------------------

Edward and Aisa insisted that she spent the rest of her pregnancy in bed. When they had first saw her lying by the door they thought she had haemorrhaged, and was dead. They were relieved to see her breathing but were concerned, upset when she eventually told her story.

She asked them to take care of the body, throwing it in the sea as was the Viking way. So once they had got her to bed, they had taken care of the body, give Athol the respect he didn't deserve, saying a prayer for the wicked man as the tide took him away.

Now it was summer, and Thora yearned to be out of bed, she was enormous now, too big to be comfortable wherever she was, she tried to walk around, but they always returned her to her bed.

Then came the day when she had an urge to get everything ready for the baby. They found her putting bedding on the baby's crib that Edward had made. Once again she was made to rest, and Edward did everything she asked.

"She's nesting" Aisa said wisely, "the baby isn't far off."

And that night Thora had the first pain. Initially she thought that she just had an urge to use the commode, but then the pain grew more severe, and she knew she was in labour, the baby was coming.

Finally exhausted, covered in sweat, but happy she held the longed for child. "It's a girl" she showed her husband. She kissed her gently on her little forehead, and then tucked up she fell asleep, her last sight her softly sleeping baby.

-----------------------------

The child grew up, and lived her life,

It might have been full of strife,

But it is not her story that I must tell

But another's, her descendant, a child of her line,

As we journey again, travel through time.


	11. Tiana, 1066AD

**Tiana had always been a happy child, living in Bamburgh Castle, she had been raised to be a servant, serving those that ruled over Northumbria. Now she ran through the hall, late for her daily duties as a maid to the daughter of the Lord of the wooden keep.**

**"I'm sorry I am late milady" she apologised as she walked red faced through the door into her mistresses' chamber.**

**"I bet you have been with Dorcas again haven't' you?" the lady laughed, "I think you enjoy learning the healing arts more than anything else."**

**Tiana grinned, looking at the woman before her, only a year older than her, she nodded her head.**

**"Tell me what she has taught you today?" **

**"Lady Aislyn, she taught me how to treat headaches and other mild pains. She uses dried pasque flowers, steeped in hot water to make a tea" she told the young woman knowing how much she wished that she could learn such things herself.**

**"Tiana, I have told you before to call me by my name, just as though there isn't anyone around to hear you, so you don't get into trouble" Aislyn admonished her, "and thank you for sharing what Dorcas told you, I always look forward to hearing about your learning."**

**------------------------**

**News came late on a day in October that a battle in Hastings had ended with King Harold dead, and his murderer William of Normandy claiming the throne.**

**"Tiana what will happen to us?" Aislyn moaned that evening as she brushed the young woman's hair.**

**"Hush, Aislyn, I am sure that everything will be alright."**

**Aislyn turned around and stared at her maid, "but I don't think it will; my father might not have fought at Hastings, but he could be killed yet."**

**"They might not come."**

**"Tiana, you are being naïve, of course they will come, they will take this castle and make it theirs, and then I don't know what will happen to my family and all my dear friends. Those Normans are supposed to be nearly as barbaric as the Danes."**

**Tiana continued brushing the lady's hair, silently praying that the Normans would leave them alone.**

**--------------------------------**

**They came within the week, storming the castle, taking many of the inhabitants captive, including Tiana's father. It seemed that William had given Bamburgh and all that resided in it, to one of his knights. And Aislyn was to marry him.**

**"I won't do it" she moaned into Tiana's hair as the maidservant held her sobbing mistress. "He's killed father, I know he has. He is a beast; I would rather die than be his wife."**

**Tiana stroked Aislyn's back, "your father is still alive, he has been taken to London. Sir Roth doesn't seem too bad, he has been fair to us servants."**

**"Then you marry him" Aislyn yelled, picking up a cushion and throwing it to the other side of her chamber.**

**Tiana ignored Aislyn's comment; she knew how upset the woman who was fast becoming her friend was. So she said nothing, just continued to hug her.**

**----------------------**

**The wedding went off without a hitch, though Aislyn tried her best to stop it. The next morning Tiana went to her lady's room, not expecting the scene she would see. She had anticipated that there would be some blood on Aislyn's sheet, but not so much. Lord Roth lay still, stiff, a pool of dried blood soaking both the sheet, but also the mattress below him. Aislyn sat on a stool at the base of the bed, rocking in her terror. **

**She turned horror filled eyes towards Tiana, "I killed him, I killed a man" she muttered, lost in her hopelessness. "I was sat on the bed, and as he sat beside me, a look of such hunger on his face, I knew I couldn't do it, I couldn't let him touch me. My hand found the knife I keep under my mattress and before I knew it, I had stabbed him, he looked at me with such shock, but then his eyes became empty, dead."**

**Tiana ran to her mistress, and held back her long blood speckled blonde hair, "it is alright Aislyn, we will fix this, I don't know how, but we will fix it."**

**"How can we fix this, the man is dead, and I murdered him, I will be dead before the day is out."**

**Determination filled Tiana, "no you won't, I will talk to my parents, we will turn out the Normans from this castle, we will protect you with our lives."**

**"Well go quickly before his servant comes for him" Aislyn instructed her.**

**"Will you be alright with………." She couldn't finish her words.**

**"Just go."**

**Tiana ran out of the room, hearing Aislyn bolt the door behind her. She hurried down the stairs; down to the kitchen where her mother was cooking a large vat of porridge. She told the woman what had happened, and before hardly any time had past all the servants were attacking the Norman soldiers, who though better armed and more used to battle, were not protecting the lady of the castle from death. The servants and the serfs from the field that had come to help won the fight, either killing the Normans or pushing them out of the castle and the area.**

**----------------**

**"They are going to come and get me" Aislyn whined the next day. She was falling into a state of depression, her mind turned by the brutality she had caused. "I am as good as dead; I should throw myself from the window."**

**"No" Tiana insisted, "they won't hurt you; we have already sent word to Edgar Ætheling, the rightful king of England. He will send help, just you see, his men will be protecting the castle before the week is out."**

**"Do you really think he will help?" she asked, hope returning.**

**"Yes" Tiana replied, hoping with all her heart that she would be proved right.**

**-------------------------**

**Tiana wasn't proved right; Edgar Ætheling didn't send anyone to help. Rumour was he had hid himself in Scotland, frightened of William. The conqueror himself had sent troops to take Bamburgh back by force. Now they were camped around the walls, Tiana knew that no matter how much they fought, they wouldn't win, it was too late.**

**"Tiana, you must get away, they have come for me, but if you flee, they won't know you are from the castle" Aislyn instructed her.**

**"You could come with me" Tiana touched Aislyn's hand, "we could go away together, find somewhere new to live, start new lives."**

**Aislyn shook her head, "I killed one of the conqueror's men, he won't ever let me be" she stared in Tiana's eyes, "no I will stand my ground, I will take the punishment that is coming to me, I will show these Normans how Saxons die."**

**"Well I will stay with you, I will die with you" Tiana stubbornly stuck her chin out.**

**"No you won't" Aislyn grabbed her hand and started to drag her across the room. She pushed an engraving with her foot, and a door opened in the wall, "this will take you to safety, now go, you will live your life for me." And she pushed Tiana in.**

**-----------------------**

**Tiana had shouted, she had kicked the wooden door, tried to force her way through. She had heard Aislyn sobbing through the door that she wanted her to go, and finally accepted that she couldn't help her lady, and started down the tunnel, Aislyn's weeping getting quieter and quieter.**

**She came out in the wood, and ran to the house her grandmother lived in. "Grandmother" she hammered on the door.**

**"Tiana, you are alright" she was enveloped in the old woman's embrace, "come inside, your parents are already here, they will be glad to know you are safe."**

**She followed her grandmother into the house, seeing her parents; she was soon enveloped by their hugs too.**

**"Where is Lady Aislyn?" her mother asked, but didn't push it when she saw Tiana shake her head with sorrow.**

**"Have you heard anything from the castle?" Tiana pointed in the direction of Bamburgh, "are the Normans still there?"**

**"They've stormed it, anyone still in there will either have been captured, or they are dead. We were so worried about you."**

**"Aislyn" Tiana sobbed.**

**----------------**

**Aislyn was still alive, Tiana would have thought that she would be happy to hear this news, but she realised what lay before her friend was worse than a quick death by a well sharpened sword. Aislyn was to hang.**

**She wept when she saw the lady led out by the Normans, her head held high, she wanted to cheer, let her know that she wasn't alone, that she was here. She didn't need to as Aislyn's calm eyes found hers, and in their depth was such love, such acceptance, such purity.**

**"Lady Aislyn you murdered your husband, you are sentenced to death by hanging, have you anything you wish to say?" her executioner growled.**

**Aislyn stood tall, proudly she said in a clear composed voice "you might kill me, but I am not alone, we Saxons are a strong people, you will not find us so easy to rule over."**

**Then they put a black bag over her head, put a noose around her neck and the floor disappeared underneath her.**

**Tiana couldn't look; she hid her face in her hands, but couldn't drown out the sound of Aislyn's neck as it broke.**

**---------------**

**Time past, Tiana learned to accept Aislyn's death, Bamburgh castle was given a new lord and lady, Norman ones. Tiana had been given the job of ladies maid to the new lady, for the Normans didn't know how she had been involved in the death of the last lord.**

**Life went on, and Tiana found herself starting to like the woman she worked for. Lady Gabrielle had married into a Norman family, she was French but born in the south of the country. She had dark hair, that she liked to be tied up in coils, and had creamy skin, and dark brown soulful eyes. Tiana worked tirelessly to help the lady, and found with time that she respected her.**

**"How old are you?" Gabrielle asked one day.**

**"I will be eighteen next month" Tiana politely answered.**

**"Have you ever thought of marriage? Is there any young man you have your eye on?**

**Tiana shook her head, feeling a bit embarrassed at such a sensitive subject.**

**"I'm sorry if I have made you feel uncomfortable Tiana, it is just that a young man from our estate in Normandy is coming to stay. He is one of my husband's best grooms, and I thought that you too might get on."**

**Tiana stayed quiet.**

**"My husband met him when he was a young boy, nothing more than an urchin. We took him in, taught him, he is a groom now as he is still young but my husband is going to start teaching him how to be a horse trainer when he gets here."**

**Tiana didn't know what to say.**

**"I'm sorry Tiana, I know that we get on, but the majority of Normans are enemies to the people of England, but that is just it, he isn't from Normandy, my husband met him on the streets of London when he came to visit Edward the confessor with William, the young man in question is Saxon."**

**-----------------------**

**When Tiana first met the young man in question, she didn't like him. To her, Arthur seemed spoiled, all his traits the worse of a Norman. He had arrogantly ignored her, annoyed when the master tried to introduce them, he had acted like he was too good for such a lowly maid. This had gone on for some time, the two of them skirting around each other, avoiding the match makings of the lord and lady. Tiana had fumed when she had heard him talking to just a lowly serf, he had been discussing her teeth, like she was a brood mare.**

**"Tiana, do you really not like Arthur?" Gabrielle would ask, "I would have thought you would have got on so well" she sadly shook her head.**

**Then one night, Tiana heard one of the horses in obvious distress, she knew one of them was with foal, so she hurriedly put her clothes on, and ran to the stables. Sure enough the little mare was all alone, distressed as her uterus contracted painfully. Tiana timidly walked over to her, so as not to startle the already terrified horse, she gently put her hand on her velvet nose, and started to rub it, then she moved onto her ears, working her way down to her stomach where she felt the cramps that hurt the horse so much.**

**"It is alright" she crooned, positioning herself between the horse's legs.**

**She could see that the foal was stuck, one of its legs had already come through, but then the top of its head had started through, leaving behind its other fore leg. She carefully pushed the head back in, stopping as the animal neighed at her, then delicately she put her hand and then arm into the birth passage and felt around for the other leg. When she found it, she deftly but cautiously pulled it forward, so that both legs and then the head could be safely delivered, followed by the rest of the foal's body.**

**When the foal had arrived, and its mother was licking its afterbirth away, Tiana turned to see the dark eyes of Arthur watching her. "how long have you been there?" she asked warily.**

**"Long enough" he admitted, "and I see I have been wrong about you. You are someone worth knowing, and you are a wonderful midwife."**

**------------------**

**Tiana hurried to her grandmother's house, she was in trouble and needed her help.**

**"Grandmother" she shouted through the door, all the while rapping hard on the wood.**

**"Where's the fire?" her grandmother asked sarcastically until she saw Tiana's face. "What's wrong my little hen?" she asked taking the distressed girl inside, and sitting her by the crackling fire.**

**"I'm pregnant" Tiana moaned, and then started to cry, "oh what am I to do?"**

**"Are you sure? Sometimes our bodies can deceive us."**

**"Of course I am sure, I have been feeling sick for every day for the last week" she almost shouted at her, "sorry for shouting."**

**"And is the father, that young groom that the lord is training?"**

**Tiana glumly shook her head, "no it is one of the Normans. Oh grandmother I am so ashamed. I thought that everything was wonderful, Arthur and I have gotten along so well, I know he was going to propose, but now he never will."**

**"What happened Tiana?"**

**About six weeks ago Gabrielle was ill, I attended her in the night, finally going back to my bed when the sun was rising. One of the Normans saw me, and followed me, and then…and then…." She couldn't finish her sentence, so filled with grief as she was.**

**"He raped you?"**

**She sadly nodded her head, "oh Arthur is going to hate me, he will never want me now, I am soiled goods now."**

**"Tiana, you are not soiled goods, Arthur is a good man, he will understand if you only give him the chance. I take it you never told anyone about the attack?"**

**"I was too embarrassed and I worried that the Norman would say that I was lying and it hadn't happened or even worse that I had wanted him" she gulped like she felt sick.**

**"You need to tell her, the Norman must be punished for his crime against you. Go now child, invite her here for tea, tell her that I will make my famous scones that she is so fond of. Together we will tell her what happened, and see what she says. Then we can decide what to do."**

**---------------------**

**Gabrielle and Tiana's mother and grandmother sat around a table discussing what they should do.**

**"I am disgusted that this Norman pushed himself on Tiana" Gabrielle was saying. "but I can't do anything unless I know who it is."**

**"I will talk to her" Tiana's mother said, and got up to find where her daughter was.**

**"Tiana" she shouted as she walked out into the garden.**

**"Mother" came the anguished voice of Tiana from the wattle pit, where she had gone to empty her bladder.**

**The woman ran to the structure, seeing her Tiana standing there, her dress pulled up and blood on her things.**

**"Mother, I am bleeding" she said, desperation in her voice, "it hurts."**

**She helped her daughter get cleaned up, and then led her back into her grandmother's home. She sat her down, and quickly told the women what had happened. Then she hurriedly made her some willow bark tea to help with the pain.**

**"You lost the baby" Gabrielle winced.**

**"Or you made a mistake and you never were pregnant at all. Tiana are you sure you were pregnant, or did the anxiety of the attack make you misunderstand the signs?"**

**"I don't know" she admitted, "now I think about it, my breast didn't hurt, and I haven't been feeling sick. This pain is just like my normal monthly pain, not any worse." Her face brightened, "grandmother I think you are right, I was never pregnant" then her face darkened again, "but that doesn't take away what he did to me."**

**"Who was it that attacked you?" Gabrielle compassionately enquired.**

**Tiana shook her head, "I can't tell you, it would cause too much trouble."**

**"Let me worry about trouble Tiana, who was it?"**

**She stared at the floor, "it was your husband….." she gulped, "it was your husband's brother."**

**-------------------------**

**Pierre strolled around the castle like the veritable cat that got the cream. He had really enjoyed his brief interlude with his sister in law's servant six weeks before and he longed for more. Since then the little waif had been avoiding him, she had hurried away from him every time he approached her, when he had gone to her room he had found it empty, and it had taken him ages to realise that she had started sleeping with the rest of the female servants. He rubbed his hands with glee, he knew that as there was a fair in the village that night, the majority of the servants would be going there, and he had paid those who would still be in the castle to be scarce. He knew that Tiana would be attending Gabrielle as usual, and after that, he started to laugh at the thought, she would be attending to him.**

**He saw his brother Jon, across the hall, a sour look on his face. Pierre grinned, wondering if the fair Gabrielle had turned him down. He would have started to laugh, but then he started walking towards him, a grimace on his face.**

**"Pierre, we need to talk" he sternly told him.**

**"What is wrong big brother?" he sneered contemptuously.**

**Jonathan answered with one word, but it was the only one that Pierre needed to know he was in trouble, "Tiana."**

**"What has the little trollop said?" he asked determined to cover his tracks, life was too easy here to be spoiled by a servant.**

**"you know what she said" Jonathan answered suddenly feeling very tired, "you took her against her will, for goodness sake Pierre, she isn't long out of childhood, how could you a man in your thirties be so unkind."**

**"well when it is offered on a plate….."**

**"but that is just it, it wasn't offered on a plate, you followed her to her room and raped her."**

**"She shouldn't have been walking around the castle at night, what does she expect. I am a man, I have needs."**

**Jonathan pursed his lips, "she was walking around the castle because she had been attending to my wife, she was ill, and Tiana had been with her all night. Finally she had fallen asleep and I told the girl to go to her bed. I just wish I had walked her to my room myself."**

**"what, so you could have got some?"**

**"Pierre, how can you be so crass? To think that we share the same parents, had pretty much the same upbringing, but I want to protect those lesser than me…"**

**"and I want to sleep with them" Pierre finished with a grin.**

**Jonathan sighed, "pack your bags, I want you out of this castle before night fall" he said and then walked away in disgust.**

**"okay big brother" Pierre crooned, "I will be gone, by night fall. But one thing you can believe is I will return, and then you will be sorry for treating me with such disrespect, and treating that girl who thinks above her station, so well. You will regret your attitude towards me."**

**-------------------**

**When Arthur had found out what had happened he wanted to comfort and protect Tiana from further harm, he didn't blame her for what had happened, didn't think she was spoilt, his feelings for her did not change. **

**But, he wanted to scream and shout, he wanted to run after the man who had took the girl's innocence, he wanted to punish him, hurt him, make him pay for what he had done. He seethed with anger at the thought of how the man had taken Tiana against her will, had harmed her in more ways than he had thought could ever be possible. **

**But he pushed aside his own feelings to be the man that Tiana needed. He knew that there had never been a time when she had more needed his understanding and acceptance, when his response to her could either help or injure her. He was adamant that he would not add to her pain, that he was sure of. **

**So he kept his emotions to himself, and supported her wholeheartedly.**

**--------------------**

**Tiana admired her reflection in the polished metal mirror. It had been months since Pierre had been sent away, and cheerfulness had reigned in her heart and in the lives of all the lives her joyfulness touched.**

**All that happiness had culminated in this one day, to standing before the reflector, admiring her white dress, given to her by Gabrielle, and the colourful flowers that festooned her hair, blooms that had been picked by her beloved who in an hour would become her husband.**

**"Come on Tiana" her mother laughed so glad that all the pain of the last few months had been left behind, and her daughter was looking forward to a life filled with love. "You can't leave Arthur standing at the altar, he will think you are not coming, and drown himself in the river."**

**Tiana shook his head, "not my Arthur" she asserted, "he knows that I would never treat him like that, he will have no doubts that I will be there, as I have none that he will be waiting for me."**

**"Nevertheless" Gabrielle laughed, whacking her maid playfully on the bottom, "while it may be good luck for the bride to keep the groom waiting, I would have thought you would be eager to get there. You haven't stopped talking about him all night. Your mother told me that she hardly got any sleep, because you kept chattering about how wonderful he was, and how much you were in love. So the sooner you get there, the sooner you become his wife."**

**"Well, what are we standing around here for?" Tiana started to giggle, making a bolt for the door.**

**"While you don't want to keep him waiting" her mother grabbed her hand and made her walk more sedately, "I think he would rather you arrived in one piece and not sliding on your posterior on the floor towards him. Brides really should not run."**

**"Okay, okay" Tiana moaned, trying to calm her instinct to run to the Chapel, "I will walk like a lady."**

**"Good, now where has your father got to?" Gabrielle asked her.**

**"He said he was going to sit on the chair outside the door so Tiana could have some privacy" her mother responded.**

**"And so he could stop Arthur trying to see me before the wedding" she grinned, not telling them that the reason the blinds were shut was because her father had closed them after he caught her groom trying to sneak into the room by climbing up the roses that grew up to the balcony of her room. They had been asleep at the item, and she had begged her father not to mention it to them. He had agreed, once he had sent the young ardent man away, he had never been able to refuse his daughter's requests.**

**"Well I am glad he hasn't tried" Gabrielle said, "because if he had seen you, then it would have been unlucky."**

**Tiana only just managed to keep her laughter in, turning a chortle into what sounded like a coughing fit. She saw her mother looking suspiciously at her, so decided to reflect her thought, "I am ready" she told them, looking every inch the beautiful bride.**

**"My little girl" her mother started to sob and went to open the door. **

**The sound of snoring came floating towards them, "good guard my father is" Tiana started to laugh, "it is just as well Arthur didn't try to come in through the door."**

**Her mother stared hard at her, ready to still admonish her even though she was now a woman and would be mated by the end of the day. Then she shook her head, and kicked the leg of the chair her husband was asleep on.**

**Instantly awake, Tiana's father jumped to his feet, ready to take on whoever had disturbed him. When he saw his wife, he started to grumble until he saw Tiana, and then started to mumble, "you look lovely."**

**Tiana swept from the room, a white lace train trailing behind her, she took her father's arm, and together they walked down the wide spiral stairs, out into the courtyard and up to the Chapel. Behind her came her mother and her maid of honour Gabrielle.**

**Two of her fellow servants were waiting at the doors, which they duly opened and for the first time Tiana could hear the music echoing out from the holy place. This was quickly replaced by the first strains of 'here comes the bride' started as soon as it was apparent that she had arrived.**

**She walked slowly down the aisle, looking towards the beaming face of her beloved who stood waiting for her at the altar. She saw him word "I love you" to her, blushing her response back at him as she reached the front. He took her hands into his warm ones, his eyes were etched with tears as he looked at her intently, his gaze filled with so much love and desire for her that it made her body quake with anticipation.**

**She was so absorbed with examining every inch of at his wondrous face, that she didn't hear the first words of the priest, it was only when her father stepped forward and took her hand passing it to Arthur, and said "I give this woman to be wedded to this man." She smiled at her love, and then turned her attention to the priest who proceeded to read a passage from the Bible.**

**"If I speak in human or angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."**

**With each word the priest spoke, Tiana responded in her heart, she would be the best wife that she could be, she would always keep that verse in mind, and try to live up to it every day. **

**Yet again she missed what the priest was saying, but was only brought out of her reverie when she realised that Arthur was speaking.**

**"I, Arthur, take you, Tiana, to be my lawfully wedded wife, my constant friend, my faithful partner and my love from this day forward. In the presence of God, our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honour and respect you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live."**

**She wiped a tear away from her eye, and then said her vows, "I, Tiana, take you, Arthur, to be my lawfully wedded husband, my constant friend, my faithful partner and my love from this day forward. In the presence of God, our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honour and respect you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live."**

**The priest then indicated that the congregation should rise and they started to sing a psalm.**

**"The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake." **

**"Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." **

**"You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows." **

**"Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever." **

**The singing over, the priest continued with the wedding ceremony, "have you got the ring Arthur?" he asked.**

**Arthur nodded, and gave it to the priest, who blessed it and gave it back. Then he placed it on Tiana's finger, "With this ring I thee wed: with my body I thee worship: and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."**

**The priest started to pray, "Bless, O Lord, this ring, that he who gives it and she who wears it may abide in thy peace, and continue in thy favour, unto their life's end; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."**

**The priest then invited them to the altar where they lit a candle in celebration of their vows. He led them back to stand before the congregation, and said, "I now pronounce you man and wife, for as much as Arthur and Tiana have decided to marry, they have entered the holy estate of marriage. What God has joined together, let no man cast asunder." He paused for a moment, and then continued, "ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the new married couple."**

**Tiana and Arthur left the chapel, to the wedding march and the rapturous applause of their friends and family.**

**----------------------**

**Gabrielle had organised a meal after the ceremony. All of Tiana's friends and family were invited as were the few that Arthur knew. But as Tiana had told him before, her friends were his friends, her family were his family, so the couple were surrounded by those that loved and cared for them.**

**Sat at the top table, Gabrielle and her husband willingly giving up their places for the night, Tiana felt like a princess, all eyes were on her and Arthur, they was the centre of attention. **

**A minstrel dressed in silly clothes, came dancing forward, his face was covered in white make up, stars decorating his cheek. He started to strum a tune on the lute he held.**

**"A knight did see a pretty girl" he sang, his blue eyes laughing in her direction, "he loved her from afar. She was the daughter of a king, not meant for such as he."**

**Tiana smiled, she had heard this tale many times before, it was one of her favourites. **

**"The princess had long blonde hair, and eyes as blue as the sky, she saw him in the garden each day, his hands filled with flowers."**

**The minstrel gave her a rose.**

**"He took a chance, he had no choice, his heart would have no other way, he told the girl what he felt, and waited for her response."**

**"Gentle knight, she greeting him happily, throwing her arms around him, my father might be the King, but I have waited many days for you to approach me."**

**"The King he was a good man, he saw how the Knight made his daughter happy, so instead of calling for the guard, he called for the wedding planner."**

**Tiana clapped with happiness, she thanked the minstrel for his song, not noticing the look of calculation in his eyes, or the way his eyes scraped her body.**

**---------------------**

**Gabrielle had retired early, at four months pregnant she was feeling very drained. After kissing the bride, and hugging the groom, she made her way back to her chambers supported by her husband who helped her into bed.**

**She was soon asleep, dreaming about the small child that she held in her body. A child with long flower festooned blonde hair, running through tall grass towards her.**

**She was rudely awakened from this beautiful scene, when she felt a body fall heavily onto the bed. **

**"Jonathon, are you drunk?" she asked, feeling annoyed that her husband had given her no regard. She received no answer, "Jonathon?" she called his name, opening one eye.**

**Her husband was laid next to her, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. There was a sword in his side, a blood stain spreading out from it. **

**Her eyesight still foggy from sleep, she strained them to focus, "Jonathon?" she shook him, his head rolled towards her, his eyes staring at her, without seeing.**

**"Jonathon!!!!"**

**"He is dead Gabrielle" a voice entered her confused mind.**

**She looked towards the door and saw the minstrel, frowning she couldn't understand what was going on until he moved towards her. "Pierre?" she stuttered.**

**"Indeed my dear" and grabbing her hair; dragged her out of bed. "Now come on sister in law dear, I have plans for you."**

**She didn't have time to scream, his hand was over her mouth to quick. He dragged her across the room, pushing an engraving with his foot, a door opened in the wall. He pulled her into the dark tunnel.**

**------------------**

**"Tiana" an urgent voice sounded through the wooden door of her room.**

**"Okay, okay" she mumbled, tripping on the bedding as she hurried to stop whoever it was banging on the door.**

**"Make sure you come back to bed once you have shooed whoever is at the door away" Arthur requested patting the warm place where her body had just been.**

**Tiana grinned at her husband, and quickly put on a wooden dress.**

**"Tiana, it is your mother…."**

**"What does your mother want?" he mouthed at her.**

**She shrugged her shoulders, and opened the door to see an extremely upset woman.**

**"Mother, I know you were worried about me, after the rape but really I am okay, you don't have to come here to check up on me" she admonished, "especially this early" she muttered to herself.**

**"Tiana something awful has happened, the lady Gabrielle is missing, and Lord Jonathon is dead, slaughtered in his bed."**

**She felt the blood drain from her face; time seemed to slow down, as ringing started in her ears. Vaguely she could hear Arthur jumping out of bed, like in a dream she saw her mother avert her eyes to his nakedness.**

**"Jonathon is dead?" he grabbed the massager of such horrible news and shook her, "the Lord is dead?"**

**Through a fog of shock, Tiana became aware of her mother's shrieks and sobs, "Arthur what are you doing?" she asked, not liking seeing her husband be so disrespectful to the woman.**

**Arthur seemed to wake up to what he was doing, and let go of her mother, "sorry" he told her, regret evident in his eyes.**

**The woman patted his arm, "I know Arthur, and I realise that Jonathon was like family to you, so I forgive you."**

**"He is really dead?" he mumbled, tears starting to fall down his face.**

**Sadly she nodded, "and Gabrielle is missing, some say it was her that killed him."**

**"She would never do such a thing" Tiana asserted.**

**"I know my love, she is a good lady, but whatever has happened, she is still missing, and he is still dead." She gulped, "They have sent word to Pierre, the castle with Jonathon gone is his now."**

**Tiana felt her eyes bulge as terror filled her, "he is coming back?" she cried.**

**Her mother nodded her head sadly, taking Tiana's hand; she said "I am sorry."**

**--------------------**

**She ran to Gabrielle's chamber, the passage she had walked a thousand times had never looked more foreboding before. Even in the long ago days when Aislyn had still been alive, it seemed to hold hope within it, now it was dim, dismal; she wondered how she had never seen how horrible it was before. **

**She came to the old oak door, it was still open a bit, and she pushed it wider, and walked in half expecting to see the lady sat up in bed waiting for her with a smile on her lips. Instead she saw the sheet and blankets, stained brown by the dried blood that had seeped into it. **

**She looked around, hoping to find some sign of what had happened, some clue to where Gabrielle had gone. The dried hay on the floor showed an obvious fight, there were also drops of blood in amidst it and leading up to the wall, where Tiana knew there was a passageway, the straw showed signs that someone had been dragged through it.**

**And just where the secret door had shut, she found a piece of colourful fabric.**

**---------------**

**Jonathon's funeral had been held, and there was still no sign of Gabrielle. Pierre had taken up residence in the castle, and Tiana along with her new husband had just moved to her grandmother's cottage.**

**"Where is she?" she moaned one cold wintry morning. "It has been a week, and no one has seen her. Do you think she is dead?"**

**"I don't know my love" Arthur comforted her. He was worried about the lady too, and now that Jonathon was buried, all the love and respect he had held for him was transferred to Gabrielle. **

**She looked at the piece of cloth again, she knew it was a clue, sometimes she almost recognised the pattern on it, but then the memory would fly away and she would be left feeling confused again.**

**"What have you got there my love?" her grandmother asked, not having been privy to what had been discussed before, only now the young couple were living with her had she heard all of the distressing story first hand.**

**Tiana passed the tiny piece of material to her.**

**The woman stared at it, "I have seen this material somewhere else" she muttered as she examined it. Then suddenly like a spark lights a fire, she knew, "there is a woman who lives in the village, she makes material like this. I seem to remember her telling me that she had made her son a new outfit but it had disappeared."**

**"So whoever stole it, is the person who took Gabrielle, and murdered Jonathon" Arthur reasoned.**

**"We know more than that" her grandmother grinned, "the night of your wedding, I remember seeing someone dressed in this material, it was only afterwards I found out about the stolen outfit, I thought he was a respectable man."**

**"Who was it?" Tiana asked, feeling a memory itch at the back of her brain.**

**"The minstrel, he wore a suit like this, and what is more I could have sworn I had seen him somewhere before."**

**"Yes" Tiana shrieked, "it was the minstrel, I knew I had seen someone wearing that material." She frowned, "you recognised him, he is from around here?"**

**"I don't know, it was just something about the way he held his body, and his voice, I have met him before I am sure of it, but I just don't know where."**

**"Maybe it will come to you" Arthur said, "but for now at least we have a culprit, we know that the minstrel is to blame for what happened at the castle, we just don't know where he is now."**

**"And we still don't know where Gabrielle is" Tiana sobbed.**

**----------------**

**Gabrielle tried to move in the narrow bed, her hands tied to the bed head, her feet to the bottom, she couldn't move. Pierre had told her there was no use trying to call for help as they were in a hut in the depth of the forest, no one ever came there, he had told her. In spite of this, she had shouted and screamed until her throat was sore, but to no avail, as rescue didn't come.**

**Once a day, Pierre would turn up, undue her so she could empty her bladder, and give her a meagre meal. Then he would tie her back up, and leave her in the cold house, with only a thin blanket to keep her warm, and no way of pulling it back on if it fell.**

**Through tears she had heard how her beloved husband had been buried, with anger she listened as he told her he was now the Lord of their home, with trepidation she shuddered as he informed her how Tiana had moved out of the castle, but that she had not move far enough away that his plans would not work. He intended to kidnap her, bring her here and subject her to atrocities she knew that the girl had already experienced, and shouldn't have to cope with again. Still there was nothing that she could do; only pray that God would intervene in the wicked plans of the brutal man. To save Tiana, to save herself and most importantly to save her unborn child.**

**---------------------**

**Tiana had stopped working in the castle, true there was a new lady, but she didn't want to be anywhere near her husband. She had heard reports from the new maid that the lady Marcelline was a vicious woman, and the girl had the bruises and scratches to prove it. **

**Instead she had returned to her first love, healing. In amongst the normal day to day illnesses and accidents that plagued a community like theirs, there were other unexplained incidents, poisonings, tools failing, and fires among other things. She was needed more than ever, constantly called out at all times of the day and night. She hardly had time to spend a moment with her new husband; the joy of their first night had not been repeated due to worry, and the need of the people.**

**Arthur was often away now anyway, she worried that he was plotting with others against the new Lord of Bamburgh castle. She had tried to discuss what he was up to, but he had told her the less she knew the more protected she was. This had made her even more concerned, so much that she had begged him to leave the past behind, to concentrate on finding the minstrel, and leaving God to punish Pierre. He had smiled at her enigmatically, kissed her cheek and then hurried of to what she feared was another meeting.**

**--------------------**

**"He is an evil man" Arthur told the group. They were sat in the basement of a disused farm, hoping that Pierre would never guess they would use an unoccupied building. Still they had guards, looking for any sign of an attack hidden in nearby trees, ready to warn them with a whistle so they could disperse quickly if needed.**

**"Yeah we know he is evil" a man who had lost all his sheep to mysterious poisoning moaned, "but what can we do? He is the Lord of the castle, and we are just lowly peasants, with no rights. He is a Norman and we are Saxons, no one will protect us."**

**"I don't care" a woman shouted, "I know he is responsible for my home burning down. My children were in there, they could have died, it is only because my neighbours helped that we survived."**

**"We have to do something, because it must be obvious to everyone here that he is trying to destroy our livelihoods and everything we hold dear. He is trying to force us to leave our lands, though goodness knows why."**

**"He is mad" a woman stated, "the castle didn't send for Tiana, they knew she wouldn't come, they sent for me instead. They needed me to help Pierre, they told me he was ill, distressed, but the man I found was foaming at the mouth, ranting on about being betrayed by his brother." She paused for a moment, "I really got the idea that he was involved in the last lord's death, not that we can prove anything."**

**Arthur shuddered, "foaming at the mouth you say? When I was a boy in France, there was a man who was bitten by a dog, he went mad like Pierre, and started salivating everywhere."**

**The woman shook her head, "no I don't believe he has rabies, his madness isn't a medical thing, I think it is more a sign of how corrupt his soul is."**

**"Do you think he had anything to do with the lady Gabrielle having gone missing?" Tiana's grandmother was also at the meeting. She sighed, "Arthur I don't know if you have discussed with those here the suspicion that the mistral who entertained at your wedding kidnapped her? I remember who he reminded me off, even though I have only met him once, I am pretty certain that the minstrel and Pierre are one and the same."**

**---------------**

**Tiana had been called to attend the birth of a young woman. A boy had come to the house earlier, and sounded so urgent, that she left a note for Arthur, ignoring her usual reservations about going out alone, and followed him.**

**As she walked she was so busy contemplating what the difficult birth would be like, she didn't notice that her guide had left her, or she had wandered off the path. **

**The first she knew that she was in trouble, was when a sack was placed over her head, and a voice she had hoped never to hear again, sniggered in her ear, and said, "hello Tiana, it is so nice you came. I am sure that Gabrielle will be pleased to see you, though not as pleased as I am going to be, I promise you."**

**---------------------**

**Arthur arrived home to a dark house, he quickly lit a candle, and read the note that his wife had left. Then after having a quick drink, he blew the candle out and went back out into the now snowing outside.**

**He made his way through the pristine snow to the cottage of the expectant mother. He thought it strange when he arrived and there was no sign of movement within. He banged on the door, and soon found out that Tiana had not been there, and indeed she had not even been sent for.**

**He backtracked his steps, looking for any sign she had come the way he had. When he neared a tree, he noticed a small bundle half buried in the snow. He bent down and pulled the item out, seeing that it was the bag that Tiana used for her healing supplies.**

**"She would never leave this behind" he muttered looking around for any other sign. "Where are you Tiana?" he called into the trees, "has something happened to you?"**

**------------------**

**Tiana sat tied to a chair, she had tried to wiggle her hands free, but Pierre had used tight knots. **

**Across the room from her lay Gabrielle. She had not envisioned that the next time she would see her would be under such circumstances. Who could have known? Even after what she had experienced at his hands, she hadn't thought that Pierre could be capable of such cruelty and evilness. To treat a pregnant woman so, was horrible. **

**She had noticed that the woman was not looking great, her skin had a grey hue to it, and her long hair was tangled. Her stomach loomed high over her thin body; it was obvious that she hadn't been fed much recently.**

**"How are you feeling Gabrielle?" she whispered for Pierre was asleep in another chair by the fire.**

**Gabrielle looked at her with scared eyes, "you have to get away from here" she hissed, "Tiana you don't know what he means to do with you."**

**"I have an idea what he plans" she quietly replied, "but I am more worried about you, you have a baby to think about, if any of us should escape, it should be you."**

**"No! I want you to get away" Gabrielle insisted, "he hasn't really hurt me in all the time he has had me here. I don't believe that he intends to. But he definitely wants to harm you."**

**"Neither of you are going to escape" Pierre sarcastically murmured, lifting his head and staring at Tiana with malevolent eyes. "I have someone who is coming to get Gabrielle; she will be taken to a nunnery. As to you, I haven't decided what I am going to do with you yet. When I have finished with you, then I will make my mind up."**

**----------------------**

**"He has her, I know he does" Arthur told Tiana's grandmother, "we have to do something about Pierre, he has terrorised us, and now he is taking our women."**

**"That is why I am here" a small man stepped forward. "I am Edgar Ætheling, the rightful king of England. I will not let the Normans subject my people to such atrocities; we will attack the castle at dawn. The Saxons will prevail" he shouted.**

**"The Saxons will prevail" they all cheered.**

**---------------------**

**Pierre slump in the large chair set apart from the rest of the hall. "ha brother" he sadistically thought, "all the time you sat in this seat lording it over me. Now I sit in your place, and the worms eat your flesh."**

**His wife sat next him, impatiently waiting to be served.**

**"Lazy" she shouted at the maid that put her food in front of her. "You are a slothful girl," using the back of her hand, she hit her about the face, "I will punish you later" she promised.**

**Pierre grinned, Marcelline was a woman after his own heart, and she was merciless, like him. "Well my love, did you have a good day?"**

**"My maid didn't do my hair right again" she informed him, "so I took the brush and hit her until blood ran down her face. Then I called the guards to throw her out of the castle, all that blood turned my stomach. So I have another maid now, hopefully this one will be better, and if she isn't then I will beat her too."**

**"That's my girl" Pierre sighed.**

**----------------------------**

**Edgar led the charge first thing in the morning, the sun was just rising and they had already climbed the wooden walls of the castle. **

**Arthur stood back to back with his king, each protecting each other.**

**"You are a good fighter" Edgar shouted to him.**

**"Thank you my Lord" he replied as he thrust his sword into the belly of a Norman.**

**"If I ever get my kingship back, then I want you to be my body guard. I have good feelings about you, I feel that I could trust you, and from what I have been told you and your wife are good giving people."**

**The fight wasn't going well; it seemed that as soon as one Norman had been dispatched to the next world another took his place. Eventually all that remained were Arthur and Edgar, who finally realised that they were fighting a loosing battle.**

**Pierre didn't touch Edgar, he didn't dare. He knew that William wanted him, so he sent him to London.**

**Arthur was another matter, after beating him with sticks, whipping his back until it was raw; he was then put in the dungeons to rot. **

**Pierre also took his revenge on the people that lived of the land around the castle. Later on the day of the castle invasion, he sent his men out on horses carrying bags of salt. Every inch of land was covered in it, the salt trampled in by the hooves of the animals.**

**"Now let's see how they survive" he laughed, "with fields that will yield no food, and animals that die through lack of sustenance."**

**-----------------**

**Tiana had managed to get one hand out of her bindings, quickly she wriggled her other one free, and untied her feet. She hurried over to the sleeping woman and started to untie her.**

**Gabrielle started with fear, but then after seeing Tiana's loving eyes she noticed what the girl was doing. "Tiana, leave me. Get away from here. You can send back help; I will only slow you down."**

**"I am not leaving you" Tiana insisted, undoing the rope around the woman's ankles. "Come on we have to go, before he gets back."**

**"And where are you going?" Pierre's voice insidiously entered her brain.**

**Tiana whipped around to see the leering face of her captor. With terror she looked around, and grabbed a nearby candle stick. She raised it above her head, "keep back" she warned him.**

**"Or what?" he sneered, "a little girl like you can not think she can protect herself with a candlestick from a full grown man like me."**

**"Try me!"**

**"Okay, I will." With an alarming speed, he ran across the room, and grabbed her arm, and then he crushed his face to hers, and bit her lips in a blistering kiss. **

**She tried to struggle, but his grip made her drop her weapon. She was totally defenceless.**

**"No!" Gabrielle shouted and launched herself at the man that had destroyed her life. "Don't touch her, leave her alone. You are scum." She pushed him.**

**Pierre batted Gabrielle off, pushing her to the ground. But he let go off Tiana in the process, giving her the chance to pick up the candle stick.**

**She turned around just in time to see him trying to strangle her friend. She didn't give him any more warnings; she just hit him over the head, making him drop to the floor, dead.**

**-----------------**

**The two women stumbled out of the cottage, to be affronted by the sight of a dense forest.**

**"We will never get out of here" Gabrielle moaned, feeling her strength slip away even more.**

**"Yes we will" Tiana told her, as she supported the woman's weight. "You wait and see, Arthur will come looking for me, and he will rescue us."**

**They walked past tree after tree, but each one looked the same, and before no time they were hopelessly lost.**

**"We should have stayed at the cottage" Gabriele whined.**

**"What, with Pierre there? I think he is dead, but did we really want to take the chance?"**

**"No but even a dead body is preferable to being out here. It will be dark soon, and then the temperature will drop even more. We will freeze."**

**Tiana sighed, she couldn't disagree with Gabrielle, and it was true that it was too cold to be outside for long. They needed a miracle, for without one they would die.**

**----------------------**

**Arthur sat in the dirty rat infested dungeon, but he hardly saw it, he was too worried about Tiana. "Let her be alright" he prayed, not noticing the cold that chilled his bones. "I don't care about me, but protect Tiana, get her away from that monster."**

**"That monster wouldn't be the so called Lord Pierre would it?" a voice trembled from the dark. A woman limped forward, "I used to work in the castle, and I knew young Tiana. But he took exception to my refusing him; he broke my leg, and then dumped me in here."**

**"How long have you been here?"**

**"A few days, but I am not alone. The others hide in the shadows in case he comes back but we are many. Villagers, who did not pay him the money he demanded, soldiers who refused to fight for him, a priest who refused to approve of him, and maids who had served the new lady, who fell out of favour."**

**"And we are the lucky ones" another voice joined in, "many have had their lives taken away from them by that fiend."**

**-------------------------**

**They were starving, there was no food, all the land was ruined, and everything had been destroyed. The villagers knew that if they didn't find food soon, then their lives would end, and more importantly, the lives of their children.**

**"I don't think they salted the land in the forest, especially deep in. There will be berries there, and other vegetation" a woman said. **

**"We could kill some rabbits too" a man said, as they pushed past the low branches.**

**Soon they were deep in the forest, busily collecting the food they needed. They were so engrossed they didn't see the two women who stumbled towards them.**

**That was until a little boy tugged a woman's skirt, "mama" he said, "mama, it is Tiana, she is alright."**

**The woman looked in the direction the boy was pointing, and saw the two women. **

**Their skin was nearly as pale as the snow, their clothes were damp and torn, their hair had broken twigs festooned in it. But the most evident thing about their appearance was the big smiles they held on their faces when they realised that they were found.**

**------------------**

**Marcelline walked up and down the hall, hitting the servants with a whip. "I said I wanted a glass of wine" she screamed at a bruised faced woman. "You brought me white, when I obviously wanted red."**

**"I am sorry milady" the terrified servant sobbed.**

**"Oh stop crying" Marcelline yelled, and hit the girl across her face with the whip.**

**She continued pacing, "and you" she looked at the cook, "the chicken for dinner was too dry, and it wasn't cooked enough."**

**"Sorry milady" the cook replied, knowing that it would do her no good to argue.**

**"Yeah you should be sorry, if it happens again then I will find another cook, then I will get her to cook your head."**

**She carried on down the line of servants, stopping at the girl that helped her in the bedroom, "you are an ugly girl" she said, looking at the red marks that criss-crossed her face. Guards, take this beast to the dungeons, I don't want to look at her repulsiveness anymore."**

**The men ran forward and grabbed the now trembling girl, they were just about to leave the room when Marcelline called them back.**

**"Take this child too" she pointed at a small girl huddled against the cook's skirt, "her snivelling is annoying me, and that runny nose is disgusting, it is turning my stomach. Throw her in the dungeon too."**

**"But milady, she is only four years old, not much more than a baby" the cook said, how can you be so cruel?"**

**"You think I am cruel?" Marcelline roared, "this" she hit the woman with the whip, "is" she hit her again, "cruel" and she continued to hit her, making her face and body a bloodied mess. "No one should ever call me cruel, or they will feel my anger, and the bite of my whip." She looked at the sobbing woman, now lying in a huddle on the floor, her child screaming next to her, "don't send them to the dungeons, I want them executed. Send for the hangman."**

**"No!" a new voice ordered.**

**Marcelline not used to being denied, turned around to look at who had dared to object to her order. "How dare you?" she shouted at the women running towards her, with the whip raised ready. **

**The guards ran forward and grabbed her before she could hurt the lady.**

**"No, let me go" she looked at the woman before her, "who do you think you are to give me orders?"**

**"I am the Lady Gabrielle, the widow of the true Lord of this castle. Your husband murdered him, and kidnapped me. He has paid for that with his life."**

**"Pierre is dead?" Marcelline asked, but then a calculating look appeared in her eyes. "Did you kill him? Are you a murderer?"**

**"I was the one who killed him" Tiana stepped forward, "he tried to rape me again, and when Gabrielle tried to help me, he tried to kill her. I had to stop him."**

**"But you are a murderer" Marcelline crowed, "you are only a peasant, and you killed a Norman, you have to die."**

**"No one is going to hurt Tiana, I am in charge here, what I say is law."**

**"Your husband is as much dead as mine, you have no hold over this place or these people. I demand as a Norman that her life should end."**

**"I am pregnant with the next Lord or Lady of this castle, the child of Lord Jonathon. That gives me every right. Now guards, take her to her room, but I want her guarded there, she isn't to go anywhere, and not allowed any freedom."**

**--------------------**

**Arthur listened to all the sad tales, he felt he was going mad at the hopelessness that filled his heart. He had to wonder would he ever escape from this place? Would he send the rest of his life in the dismal dungeon, eventually dying here? He shook his head, all these thought were nothing compared with the worry that he felt for what had happened to his beloved. **

**He turned as he heard a key in the lock, the door opened. He expected another wretch to be thrown in, abandoned to the fate of a life spent in near darkness.**

**He didn't expect to see Tiana, for a second he thought that Pierre had sent her there after taking all he wanted, he imagined comforting her, and the two of them living their lives out, cold, starving but together. **

**But then she smiled. She ran over to him, and embraced him. She lifted his face up with a hand under his chin, and said "Pierre is dead, Gabrielle is safe, the harpy Marcelline will never hurt anyone again, and you and all here are free."**

**------------------**

**After they had recovered from their ordeal, and made sure that Gabrielle had all she needed to take charge of the castle again, Tiana and Arthur decided to leave, to travel to another part of Britain, to start new lives. No matter how much Gabrielle begged them to stay, told them that she would protect Tiana, they knew that Bamburgh castle was not a safe place for her anymore. She had killed a Norman, yes there were usual circumstances surrounding his death, but she was still a Saxon. When William found out that one of his people had been killed, then he would want to punish her. They had to go.**

**So a week after they had released the prisoners from the dungeon, they and many others waves goodbye to their friends and families, and started a new adventure. They travelled north.**

**It was a hard journey, Tiana found that after travelling in a cart all day, she was exceptionally tired. This got worse each day, until it started to affect her health, she started feeling sick, her body ached.**

**After one particularly hard day, she went to talk to a wise woman who was also a healer. She had to get an objective view on what was happening to her, for she had no idea. She knew that her brain was too fogged to understand.**

**The woman listened to Tiana's symptoms, and then smiled, "there is nothing wrong with you" she told her.**

**"But there must be something" she exclaimed, feeling the answer was inches away from her befuddled mind.**

**"There is something, and in nine months time you will be able to hold it. Tiana you are pregnant."**

**"I am" suddenly everything became clear, "I am, I am pregnant." She started to run towards where she knew Arthur would be, but then turned around and thanked the woman.**

**"Go and tell that husband of your" the woman urged her, "recently he has looked as gloomy as you look ill, he will be glad to know that all that ales you is you are going to be blessed with a child."**

**---------------**

**That night after much celebration with her husband of the new life in her body, she eventually managed to go to sleep.**

**And she dreamt of her child, a beautiful child. This child was replaced with another one, a child that wasn't hers but somehow was, a child of a future generation. This child, this girl would be called Tana.**


	12. Tana, 1190AD

Tana – 1190AD

"Father, don't go" Tana tearily exclaimed, holding onto the chain mail wearing man like her life depended on it.

"I have to go" Velan sighed, "daughter, you know that I am in King Richard's personal guard, to let him leave for the crusades, and stay behind would be tantamount to treason."

"But I am so scared that you won't come back."

He pulled her into his arms, and kissed the top of her golden haired head, "I have my duty Tana."

She turned her face up to him, and looked at him in earnest, "what about your duty to me?" she sobbed, "I am your child, only fifteen years old. How can I live without my father?" She stomped her foot with frustration.

"The servants will look after you Tana" her sternly informed her, "you are no longer a child, you are almost a woman, one who will soon leave me and marry anyway. It is time that you grew up, and took on your womanly duties. You are the lady of this fortress, and I expect you to act like that." He wiped the tears that fell down her face, "now stop crying" he ordered, "the king will be here soon, you don't want to shame me."

----------------------

Richard the Lionheart arrived at Bolsover Castle in a flurry of horses, capes and swords. He swept into the hall where Tana waited.

"Velan, you look well" he said, "and surely this woman can not be your daughter Tana? The last time I saw her she was but a child."

Tana grimaced, and felt her face flamed with embarrassment. She needn't have worried, she was forgotten within moments, as her father inviting the King to sit down, and gave him a flagon of wine. As she left the room she could hear them planning the route they would take on their crusade.

Up in her room, she flung her shoes at the wall, and flounced on her bed. "I don't want him to go" she moaned, "I want him here with me." She wondered if there was any way that she could convince him to stay, but soon pushed those thought aside when she realised that he could not disobey the King.

With these worrying ideas still in her head, she fell into a disturbed slumber.

She knew that she was dreaming, but it seemed like she wasn't too. She was walking down a dusty street; small single story clay built houses lined it. The area was filled with dark skin people, the man wearing loose billowing white clothes, the women wore long dresses, and veils over their heads.

She looked at the majestic city surrounding her; she glanced skyward, and saw what looked like a glittering halo floating above the area.

"Where am I?" she said to herself.

"You are in Jerusalem" a man answered her, "I am Saladin, the new King of all that you see. I am looking forward to when you join us."

With a start, Tana woke up. The dream floated before her, it was almost like she could have reached out and touched the man. "Jerusalem?" she frowned, "looking forward to me joining them?" She shook her head, shaking off the dream. She got out of bed, and walked over to the window. She stared out at the rain drenched land, so different from her dream.

"Jerusalem" she repeated, having made a decision.

------------------

If she were to join the crusades dressed as herself, Tana knew that she would stick out like a sore thumb.

But she had an idea, when she was a child one of her favourite stories was about a young woman, purportedly an ancestor, who had lived hundreds of years before her. This girl had hidden herself amongst Vikings; they had thought that she was a boy for years. The story had always made her wonder why a pretty girl would want to disguise herself as a boring boy that was all changed now.

"I think I could pass for a boy" she grinned, "I will wait until father has left with the King tomorrow and then I will buy the stable lad's extra outfit of him, cut my hair, bind my breasts and dress like a boy. Then I will follow my father, join the crusade and although he won't know it, I will be close enough to keep an eye on him, and look out for him."

It was a plan.

---------------

She waved her father off, the distress she felt about his safety making her tears real. But when he was finally gone, she ran to the stables; and bargains with a boy, giving him a gold coin in exchange for a set of his clothes. Soon she was back in her room, standing in front of the reflector. She had removed her dress, and now stood in just her slip. She shivered at the thought of removing it, but quickly shed it and stepped into the course trousers, and shirt. She ignored the desire to scratch her skin, which now felt like a thousand lice were crawling over her body.

She stuffed straw into the toes of the shoes she had been given, they were far too big otherwise.

She continued to stare at her reflection, at that moment she looked like a girl in boy's clothing. She sighed, she couldn't put it off any longer, not if she wanted to catch up with the soldiers, she would have to cut her hair. She took the silver scissors out of her sewing kit, and started slicing of her long blonde hair, cutting it close to her scalp. When she was finished she hardly recognised herself anymore, and she was certain that even those that knew her and loved her would not see through her disguise. Faintly she tied a cloak around her shoulders, and then left the castle, going down the back stairs and out of the side door.

She thought about taking one of the horses but knew that her father would recognise it. So she walked, the straw in her shoes rubbing her toes.

--------------------

She walked into the village, where she managed to catch the coach and horses that was heading for London. Unlike all the other times, she had travelled by such transport this time; she got to sit not inside the vehicle, but next to the coach man, as he guided the horses on their way. She introduced herself as Tom.

The wind whipped against her cheeks, she watched as the autumnal trees whizzed past her eyes, the breeze they created making more than a few leaves to break of, and scatter behind them.

"This is so cool" she grinned.

An hour later, she didn't like it anymore, the wind now stung her cheeks, and she tried to put her cloak over her face. But this left her legs exposed, and cold. She tried to sit in a position where she could huddle under it, but she nearly toppled from her seat.

"Whoa there Tom" the coach man grabbed her arm, "you have to sit properly or you will find yourself with a broken limb on the path."

"But my face hurts" she whined, "I was just trying to keep warm, but protect my face as well."

"Here take this extra blanket" he grabbed a bundle next to him, and threw it to her. "That way you can cover your head with your cloak and your body with the blanket."

"Don't you need it?"

"No" the man shook his head; "I am well wrapped up, and warm enough. Anyway I have been doing this job so long that my face is as tough as old boots, it could be blowing a gale and to me it would just be a gentle breeze, it doesn't hurt my face at all.

They rode through the day, eventually as the sun started to set and the moon starting peeking out of the clouds, stopping at an inn in Leicester.

"Do you want to sleep in the barn with the horses and me Tom?" the coachman kindly asked.

Tana thought for a moment, she really didn't like the sound of sleeping so close to a man, but to pay for a room would reveal that she had money, which she could be accused of stealing; maybe her identity would be discovered. "No" she thought, "to sleep in the same place as this seemingly harmless man is a better option than possibly the truth being revealed.

"Yeah" she nodded her head; having also decided that she would keep a knife close to her just in case. "Thank you" she said gratefully.

"That is alright" the man grinned, "here share my supper with me" he offered Tana a piece of bread and some cheese.

She ate it with relish, ravenous as she was.

She was very tired now; the coach man indicated where she should sleep, "I don't know you, so I will sleep on one side of the barn, and you on the other. With the horses in the middle they will give me warning if you….I am sorry Tom, I am not casting aspersions on you but you learn to be cautious in my line of work, the horses would also tell us if anyone comes in from outside."

Tana nodded, silently smiling for the man who wanted to protect himself, had unknowably answered all her concerns.

---------------

The next morning after a wonderfully good night of sleep where she had buried herself in the hay to keep warm, they set off again this time heading for Northampton that the coachman informed her they should make by nightfall.

After about an hour of total silence as the man navigated the horses around a treacherous cliff side pathway, he suddenly asked, "Why don't you tell me about your home Tom?"

Tana nearly started choking, but then she did something that she really didn't like but considering the mission she had given herself, it was something she would have to get used to, she lied. She told of a father who had drunk too much and a mother who had died birthing a stillborn, though that part was true. She said that her father used to beat her, this especially was untrue, he had never hit her, he was a hard man but fair.

"So are you heading to London to seek your fortune?"

She considered lying, but then decided that if she told the truth that he might be able to help her. "I have decided that I want to support the King in his crusade, I might only be a boy, but I could fetch and carry, take messages and I am a fair cook."

"I suppose you have had to be" the coachman commented, "what with your mother dying when you were still young and your father being like he was."

"Yes" she responded hurriedly.

"My brother is going on the crusade, he is only in the army but he is a good man. I know that he would find a young lad to help him very useful. He is going to join us at our next stop, would you like me to talk to him? See if he has a need of you? I know that he is planning on travelling the same time as the King."

"Thank you" she emphatically said, "any help you can give me will be most welcome."

--------------------

Lulled back to sleep by the swaying of the coach, Tana started to dream, she was back in Jerusalem, the man Saladin in front of her, "oh young Tana, such wonders I will teach you" he told her, "but you have to get here first. Only travel with the man with brown hair, you will meet him very soon. But you must make the right decision or you will be in danger."

The dream finished there as she was rudely awakened by the coach coming to a halt.

"We are here" the coach man kindly told her. "I will take you to my brother's house to meet him, and knowing his wife she will want to feed you up, and give you a bed for the night."

"That would be most welcome" she admitted.

-------------

"That lad is much too skinny" the coach man's sister in law said after they had reached her home. "I don't know how much good he will be to my husband; he doesn't look like he could carry dinner from the oven. He looks like he needs a good feed, though from what you have told us, he hasn't had one of those for a long time. How a man could treat a boy like that, I don't know."

Tana had been shown to a room that had used to be occupied by their son. He was already away fighting the Muslims so didn't need it. She would have rather had gone in with the two girls that lived there, one a bit older and one younger, but in her disguise that obviously wasn't going to happen.

She could hear the coach man discussing her with his sister in law, so she sat on the bed and waited to be called. She didn't want to interrupt them. She could hear the two sisters chattering in the next room, talking about her, and how handsome she was. Tana smirked at that, "if they only knew" she muttered to herself.

"Juliette, Marianne" a feminine voice barked up the stairs, "dinner is nearly ready, come down now and set the table, and bring Tom down to, your father wants to speak to him."

She heard the girly giggles as they knocked on her door, they didn't wait for a reply but burst in, eyes everywhere looking for the lad they thought she was.

"Mother wants us downstairs" the younger one coyly told her.

"Father wants to talk to you" the other one brazenly told her, as she winked invitingly.

"Okay" Tana blushed, and literally ran out of the room, accompanied by the gales of laughter from the two amorous girls.

She heard them as they thundered down the stairs after her, reaching where their mother was just before her.

"Arh good" the woman smiled, "Juliette, you set the table, Marianne you can help me serve up." She saw Tana standing awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, "Tom, you go and sit down, my husband and his brother are waiting for you."

She hurried over to the other side of the large room.

"Here he is" the coach man grinned, "Tom this is my brother Rolf, I have told him of your plans and although he doesn't need your services, he knows of two men who might be interested. After dinner, we will take you over to their farm, they are brothers and about to leave for the holy land."

Tana nodded, and sat down. Soon a bowl of steaming stew was placed in front of her. She hungrily ate it, "this is wonderful" she grinned, as more was ladled into her bowl.

Both fed and watered, she accompanied both the coach man and Rolf to the farm of the brothers. She realised immediately that they were brothers, they looked identical.

"This is John and this is James" Rolf told her, and then he looked at the confused brothers, "Tom here wants to go to the crusades and as you are both going, I thought I would introduce you, and see if you wanted a lad to help you."

"Oh okay" James smiled, "come in and share a cup of mead."

They entered the dwelling, and started to talk.

"Well we are both going to be joining King Richard in the next couple of days, so both of us could do with someone to fetch and carry, and do other jobs" John said.

"But we are going to be going separately, we have done too much together for too long, we both felt it was time we went our own ways" James commented, "so you could only help one of us, but which one?"

Tana shook her head, she didn't know.

"Brr, it is a bit cold in here" John rubbed his arms, and went over to the nearby burning fire place, and threw a log on it.

Tana saw that his hair matched the colour of the fire, red. James had already joined him, and she saw as he pokered the fire, that his hair was brown.

"I think he should go with my brother" John said, "he is journeying to London tomorrow to join his regiment, whereas I am not going for a few days. I assume that you wish to get there quite quickly?" he asked of Tana.

"Yes" she replied, "I need to go straight away or I will loose my seat on the coach, which has already been paid for." She didn't mention her dream, or that it had told her to go with the man with brown hair.

"Well that is sorted then" James grinned, "I will accompany your coach there."

-----------------------

After another two days of relentless travelling they finally arrived in London. By that time Tana had got to know James very well, she had found out all about his upbringing, how he had been sent to school and knew how to read. She had found out that his brother was the tempestuous one, while he liked to think situations out more before involving himself. She had also found out that he was eighteen, three years older than her.

Even though her job would be providing for the young man, she found that he went all out to protect her. She knew that he had no idea of what her true gender was; he treated her like a younger brother. But he didn't let her wander around, told her to be careful and warned her that once they arrived in London that she should keep her wits about her, and always be on her guard. That not everyone she would meet was nice, some would want to mistreat her.

But she gulped down her fear, she had a mission, to be close to her father, and help him all she could. Now she had a secondary duty; that of looking after James which she would do to the best of her ability. "Anyway, it is hardly a hardship helping such a man" she had thought to herself as they neared London, eyeing him with appreciation.

----------------

The first flakes of snow started to fall as they crossed the new London bridge; it had been built just eleven years before to replace the wooden roman one.

"I think we will have a white Christmas this year" the coach man grinned, "I just hope I can get back to my family before it gets too thick."

"I am sure you will good man" James cheerily said, laughing as a flake landing on his nose.

"I love snow" Tana exclaimed, watching it with big joyful eyes, "I remember all the winters playing in it" she reminisced, "snowball fights with the local children, making snowmen and then rushing into a neighbours house for hot drinks."

"Well then young Tom, you will have plenty of time to enjoy the snow then, I can't see that we will leave for some time" James laughed at her excitement.

"Wait until the river Thames freezes" the coach man added, "people tie horses' foot bones to their feet and skate on the ice. I have never tried it myself, but it seems to be the fashionable thing amongst the young people. You never know you might meet a pretty girl."

"I haven't really got time for pretty girls at the moment" Tana told them, thinking she was much more interested in the fascinating James. "And I don't know about this skating thing, it sounds dangerous to me."

"Aye it is" James agreed, "but you have to try it young Tom, once you get the hang of it, you will love it, I promise."

They entered the town, immediately hit by the wave of smells that assaulted their nostrils, odours both pleasant and some not so. Tana could smell the smell of fresh pies drifting out of a baker's shop along with the stench of manure from the horses, the ladies went past, flowery perfume floating around them like a cloud, but then she would catch a whiff of the rubbish dumped in the streets. Over all this was the familiar smell of wood smoke as it meandered from houses, hung around the streets and then caught up in the wind, disappeared into the air.

"Arh, London" James sniffed loudly, "there is no place quite like it."

The snow had started to fall heavier now, so the coach man shouted for the horses to go faster. They stopped at an inn, "journeys end" he called, and then to Tana he said "we are here lad, you will go with James now. And may God keep you safe, and bring you back to England." He looked around and noticed all his passengers had disembarked, turning back to Tana, who had climbed down from her place next to him, he winked at her, and then reigns still in his hands, he urged the horses to start moving again, "I am going to stay at that inn just outside London, there will be people who want to travel the way we came." He was nearly out of sight, when she heard him shout back at her, "hope to meet you again sometime lad."

---------------------

She followed James through the city, they passed street urchins begging, girls touting for business, people walking around clasping their belongings to them, to stop them being stolen. The houses here were small, grimy, and broken down. Rubbish strewn the streets, and rats ran amidst them.

But they left this all behind, as they entered the more prosperous area near the destroyed Westminster Abbey. Houses here were larger, elegant, and pristine. Many resembled the Roman style of building, with arches, and columns, though they were obviously newly built. They stopped outside a particularly lavish house, and James after jumping of his horse, started leading the animal towards it.

"Come on Tom" he urged, "this is my London home."

"What?" she exclaimed.

"I know, I know, it is a bit different to the farm. What can I say? We like to rough it, no disrespect but my parents have given us everything, we wanted to live like everyone else, get to know what life is like. That way, we would know how to help them; my father is the Earl of Leicester."

-------------

"You will stay in the servants' quarters, though as my new page I will make sure that you have your own room" James told her, "once you are settled, we will see about you being attired accordingly."

Tana nodded her head, "I didn't realise that you were aristocracy" she said.

"No, and you mustn't let it worry you either. You might be coming to the crusade to help me, but though I am your master, I will always consider you an equal and will treat you accordingly. If you respect me, then I will you."

"I will be the best servant you have ever had" she said fervantly.

"Actually, you will be my first servant. It is true that I grew up with people serving me, but I even shared my nanny with my brother. You will be the first person who exclusively serves me."

----------------

Tana soon got used to the large house, and within no time was caught up in the bustle that the festive period was known to cause.

Everywhere was decorated with holy and ivy, carol singers would come to the door.

The cook had been out to the market, finding produce for the Christmas eve dinner. She had really struggled to find what she wanted, had nearly brought fish as it wasn't done that they should eat meat before Christmas day. Finally she had found and brought back a barnacle goose, which was reported to grow on trees.

----------------

After a Christmas day service at the nearby Church, all the servants had been invited back to a party at the house, where a boar's head was served along with, chicken and beef stews, bacon with mustard, roast goose and duck, cheese, bread and ale.

beef

This was followed by plum pudding,mince and dried fruit pie, and other treats such as gingerbread and spiced wines.

Best of all was the bean cake, Tana when she was eating her piece found a small bean in it that meant she had to entertain those present with a song, poem, tell a story or act out a scene of a play.

"I will sing a Christmas carol" she told them. Her high pitched voice reached the raftors as she sang the Magnificat.

"My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour; he has looked with favour on his lowly servant. From this day all generations will call me blessed; the Almighty has done great things for me and holy is his name. He has mercy on those who fear him, from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm and has scattered the proud in their conceit. Casting down the mighty from their thrones and lifting up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good thing and sent the rich away empty. He has come to the aid of his servant Israel, to remember his promise of mercy. The promise made to our ancestors, to Abraham and his children for ever.

------------------

James gave Tana the night of on Chrtistmas Day, her services were not required as he, along with his brother who had finally arrived and theeir partents wre to attend a banquet organised by the King.

But unlike what a normal page would have done with their time off, Tana decided to do something different. A few days before she had borrowed a maid's dress, and wimple and had gone to a dressmakers to order a bliaut gown, and other accessories. She charged it to an account that her father had set up for her.

Now that the family she was living with had left, she quickly dressed herself, struggling with the lacing of her snow white bodice of her dress, finally tying it at the front and tucking it under one of the pink sashes that decorated it. It also had tight narrow arms, which became loose and flowing at the elbow. The skirt was full, fluid and graceful. She put on the pink cone shaped headress, that was decorated by swathes of delicate see through rose petal dyed silk and placed satin slippers on her feet.

Tana glanced out of the window of her small room, and saw the carriage she had ordered waiting for her. She grabbed a lace shawl, and scurried down the servant's stairs, running around to the front of the house and getting into it before any of the other servants could see her, and wonder who she was or what she was doing there.

They arrived at the castle, she had a some trouble getting in, but when she said who she was and her father was called, she was immediately ushered in to face the stern face of her father.

"Where have you been young lady?" he asked her. "It is over a week since I received notification that you had disappeared. Soldiers have been out looking for you."

"Oh father, I have been staying with a friend" she lied, "I told you I was going to be visiting Lady Amanda Bellington, that is where I have been."

Her father frowned, "I don't think I know her."

"Yes you do, she is the girl with the blonde hair, my best friend, surely you remember her?" she cleverly responded.

"Oh yes" he replied, though he was still none the wiser. "Is she here? I would like to have a word with her."

"She is ill father, so she couldn't come tonight, but she wanted me to still enjoy the night, so she sent me in her coach. But she sends her love to you."

"Yes well, that is nice" he blustered, "I suppose you had better get on into the hall and get some pleasure from the festivities.

She entered the party, making a beeline for her friends. She was a well known beauty, and was wanted by many of the young men, who yearned for her attention. But she only had eyes for the young man who stood across the other side of the hall with his brother, James.

--------------

"She is beautiful" James enthused to his brother, "though she seems strangely familiar. I am sure that I have never met her before but I think somehow I know her. It is such a mystery, one I have to solve. I am going over to her to find out where I know her from."

As he walked to the young woman, he saw her look at him, her cool blue eyes showing their interest. She smiled sweetly at him, and toyed with a bit of a ribbon on her dress. He felt his face flame, as his heart warmed up. Here was a girl who he instinctely knew could fulfil his every need.

"Hello" he said, not knowing what else to say.

"Hello" she responded, beaming at him.

"Would you like to dance?"

"I would love to."

He took her small hand in his and led her to the middle of the dancing young people, they sashayed as they talked, dancing in a slipping circle, arming and sliding. All the while he stared into her beautiful eyes, occasionally his hand would accidentally brush her side, sending a jolt down his spice.

By the end of the night, he was totally enamoured of her. "I have really enjoyed our time together tonight" he told her, "I am going to be going on the crusade in a few days, will you wait for me and be my wife when I get back?"

Tana modestly stared at the toes of her slippers peeking out from underneath her dress and nodded her head, "nothing would make me happier" she told him.

-----------

Tana's father had noticed how interested the young man was of his daughter, he had enquired who he was. He was nearby when James made his proposal, and had heard it. But he was happy.

"Tana" he caught her before she disappeared, "I hear congralations are in order. You are to marry one of the sons of the Earl of Leicester. I am pleased with that arrangement."

"Thank you father" she smiled.

"Do you intend to stay with your friend while I and your intended are on the crusade?"

She nodded her head.

"Yes I think that is best. You will have lots to arrange for when he returns. I have spoken to his parents, and they have promised to keep an eye on you, and make sure that you are okay while we are gone."

"Father, they have invited me to spend the night in their home, though they will make sure that everything is above board. The carriage I arrived in, it is going to take me there."

"I will accompany you there, on my horse. Though the King has need of me, so I will have to leave you at the door, I won't be able to come in."

"That is alright father, I understand. Thank you for your concern for my safety."

"Well you are my daughter" he hugged her.

"Yes father." She wished that she didn't have to lie to him, but had to for she intended to keep the two men she loved safe, no matter what the cost.

--------------------

A few days later she was walking in the garden dressed as a boy again, when she came upon John the brother of James. She had seen her beloved many times in those days, but he was still none the wiser, and thought that Tana and Tom were two separate perople.

"Hello young Tom" John greeted her, "I hear that you have been a real help to my brother, I wish I had insisted you were my page, though……" he looked surreptitiously around, "you could always change your mind."

"Oy, leave Tom alone" came the annoyed voice of James as he hurried towards them.

"But I need someone to serve me when we leave in a couple of days, and all the boys seem to have already found someone to serve."

"That might be so, but you can not have Tom. I wouldn't let him go to such a reprobate as you; he would be led astray within no time.

John started to laugh, "brother I am not that bad. I would treat him well, but he is your servant so I must find another."

"Have you spoken to the farrier's youngest boy?" Tana spoke up, "I was talking to him the other day, he is desperate to go on the crusade, but has no way of getting there."

"What is his name?" John asked.

"Um, let me think" she thought back to the day she had met him, "I think he was called Robbert."

She watched as he ran towards the house, obviously about to go and find the young man.

"Tom have you ever ridden a horse?" James' question invaded her thoughts.

"Um yes" she replied, her father had taught her to ride from an early age. "I used to be friends with a boy who lived on a farm" she lied, "his father taught me."

"Well, that is good, for we will have a lot of riding to do."

-------------------

Tana sat below deck, after spending the first day of their journey on a horse, she was relieved to be able to stretch out. She was one of many who inhabited the hull; both rich and poor huddled together. She was just glad that the journey across the English channel would be short, she didn't fancy living for any period of time in such close quarters.

To waste time, as she had nothing else to do, she had been chatting to Robbert, John's servant.

"So did you not like the farrier business?" she asked him.

"It was alright, but I am one of four brothers, the other three have followed my father, I wanted to do something different."

"So you decided to fight for Christianity in the Holy Land?"

"Yeah, the same must be true of you?"

"Yes" she hurriedly replied.

---------------------

It took months to reach their destination, a time spent sailing some of the way and riding the rest, at night they would camped. They went to Sicily first, and then conquered Cyprus, taking control of Tyre when they reached the holy land.

Tana had served James to the best of her abilities, cooking for him when he was hungry, carrying messages when he needed to communicate, and listening to him when he just needed someone to talk to. And all through this time, though he talked often of the Lady Tana, he never realised that his betrothed was with him, in the guise of a young boy.

He had taught her many things in those long months, most wonderful of all he had passed on the skill of how to hunt. She could now use the age old method of a sling with an adeptness that would have made an ancient ancestor extremely proud.

Tana watched the rabbits as they scampered out of their burrow. She was crouched behind a large bush so they had no idea that she was there. When she started whizzing her sling in the air, they looked around with disinterest but then proceeded in eating the sweet grass. They didn't know what was coming as she cast the first stone, that whipped through the air, and hit one of them a glancing blow on his head, dead before he hit the ground. Another stone followed quickly hitting another of the animals and then Tana emerged from her hiding place, making them scurry back into their home leaving behind their dead friends.

"James and I will eat well tonight" she grinned, picking up the rabbits, and tying a rope around their feet. Then she slung them over her shoulders, enjoying the heat from their still warm bodies.

She reached the smoky camp just as dusk was falling, sitting by the fire, she used its light to skin the animals and then she put both of them on a spit to roast.

She knew that James didn't like any part of an animal to be wasted so she took the skins over to the women's camp. She ignored the cat calls of those who just accompanied the army to see to the more basic needs of the men.

"Come over here love" one shouted, "I would love to teach a young lad like you the joys of life."

She made a beeline for a group of older women, who saw to the more important needs of the men, to eat, to stay warm and to stay alive. She had spoken to these women many times, learning little titbits about healing from them. When she had scratched her leg of a thorn that had become infected, they had showed her how to make a wash to cleanse it, and a salve to stop the infection and keep more out. She was thankful to these women, and would look for any opportunity to bless them.

"Here is young Tom again" one of them noted, "I wonder what he had for us today?"

"It is only two rabbit skins" she apologised.

"Only" one of the women laughed, "you could have thrown them away but you thought of us women." she took the skins of her, "and these are lovely and soft."

"You are such a good boy" another of them said, "I would be proud to have such a son as you."

This was how the talk usually went around her in the women's camp. These women were an inspiration to her, and she always came away with a bit more healing lore.

------------------

They were camped outside Jerusalem; they had been joined by two massive armies from France and Germany, led by their monarchs, which together with King Richard made a frightening sight for the inhabitants of the ancient city.

The King along with his personal guard had entered the city to talk to Saladin, while everyone else waited outside nervously. Nervous of all was Tana, worried about her father, and what could be happening to him.

She didn't have long to wait, as soon they appeared alongside the fabled Sultan, who was accompanied by his own guard.

"I would like to meet your people" she heard him say, and he started inspecting the troops.

"Watch yourself men" a voice ordered them, "make sure no one does anything to upset him."

"Come on Tom" James grinned, pushing her in a line of waiting soldiers.

Tana could see them coming ever closer, the King, her father and Saladin. She was stood next to James and knew she couldn't escape. Would she be recognised? She didn't know. But she knew that the time was on her.

They were just a short distance down the line now; she could have leant side wards and touched the sleeve of her father's sleeve. She held her breathe, and then they were in front of her.

"This is James, the son of one of our Earls" her father introduced.

James bowed respectfully, and then turned to Tana, "this is Tom my page."

The King nodded, so did her father, it seemed that they did not see through her disguise. She was just about to let out her breathe, thinking she was safe from discovery when Saladin spoke.

"Is this the one?" he almost muttered to himself, and then louder he continued "Richard, this girl……"

She gasped, how did he know she was female when she could deceive everyone else?

"Girl" King Richard, her father and James all shouted at once.

Her father looked closer, at her face, past the mud that streaked her cheeks, and he saw her.

"Tana" he exclaimed.

"Tana?" James stared at her, "Tana, your daughter?"

King Richard started to chuckle, "you always were a one" he grinned, "but this time my dear you have out done yourself."

"Tana what are you doing here?" her father's face was starting to turn purple with rage. He turned on James, "is this how you protect my daughter, you bring her onto a battle field?"

"But…." James stuttered, too shocked to defend himself, "but…"

"James had nothing to do with it father" she protected him, "he thought I was a boy."

"A boy, how could anyone think you are a boy?" he blustered.

"Well, you didn't recognise me a minute ago, if my own father didn't know me, how do you expect anyone else to?"

"Okay this isn't James' fault, it is all yours" he finally decided, "you pretend to be a boy, trick your way into the service of a soldier, you travel all this way, put your safety and your standing in society in danger. And all this for what?"

"I was worried about you father, I wanted to make sure that you were alright, I was willing to risk my life for you."

"you did it all for me" she saw a tear enter his eye, but then he started his rant again, you are ruined, no man will want to marry you now?"

"I want to sir" James stepped forward, "she might have behaved badly, but she did it with a pure heart. I would be honoured to be her husband. The young man Tom that I thought she was, he was a good sort, her good character came through time and time again. She had been a great help to me on this crusade, and I am sure that she will be a wonderful life mate."

Tana turned to him, "do you forgive me then?" she asked.

"Just as though you start dressing like a lady again" he replied, "I cannot have my wife to be running around looking like a boy."

Tana grinned, "I would do that, but I haven't got any female clothes."

"I am sure that the women will be able to provide appropriate clothing for a lady" King Richard interjected. "James, you should go with her, to explain why she needs such attire."

They were just about to hurry to the women, when they were stopped by the coughing of the Sultan. "I would like to get to know this young woman more" he said, seeing the looks of worry that past the three men's faces, he started to laugh, "I am not really into cross dressing females" he told them, "but for a year now I have been dreaming about a young woman, she is from your country and I am to teach all that I know. I am also known as El Hakim amongst my people, I am a healer, I want to teach lady Tana all that I know, I believe that Allah demands it."

"Well, I don't know" her father said.

"Oh father, please, let him teach me. I have already learnt many cures from the women of the camp; I would like to learn more. I feel that healing is a path I have to follow, it feels like I was destined to heal."

"Well, I suppose that it would be okay. But if she is to come into Jerusalem to learn then she will need to be accompanied, James or myself will come with her for each lesson."

"I could come into camp" Saladin offered, "my guard would have to come too, if that would be alright. And maybe I could meet the women that have been teaching Tana already, I am always on the look out for new healing techniques and I am sure that I can pass on some new ideas to them also."

"That would be most generous" King Richard stated, "but for now I think Lady Tana should go and get more suitable attired."

---------------------

When they arrived at the women's camp, and a red faced Tana explained that she wasn't really called Tom, she was a girl called Tana, the women took it remarkably well.

"I always knew there was something strange about you" one of them said, "something not quite right, now I know."

"Well I always suspected that Tom was really a girl" another said, she was the sort who always had to be the first to guess, had to be in the know or she felt that she would loose face.

"It is alright that no one saw through her disguise" James tenderly told them, "I am to marry Tana here, but I never realised that my intended was the boy who was looking after me."

"Ha! Ha!" one of the women rocked with laughter, "you certainly had everyone fooled."

"Even the King and my father" Tana grinned, "they didn't recognise me, they were about to pass me by, when Saladin asked why a girl was dressed as a boy."

"Oh, even though he is the enemy, that man is supposed to be wise. You know he is a renowned healer around these parts, what I wouldn't give to be able to pick his mind."

"Well you will be able to" James stole Tana's thunder, "he is going to be coming into camp to teach our young lady here, and has said that he would like to meet you all too."

There was a flurry of excited voices, though there was a dissenter or two. "What can this heathen teach us?" was the general consensus amongst them.

"You don't have to meet him" Tana angrily told them, already feeling protective of the man. "I am sure that he would rather not teach those who think he is below them."

"Tana, don't let them upset you" one of the women who had willingly taught her said, "I for one would be honoured to have the Sultan in our tent. And I am even happier that you are going to learn his ways. I could always feel the healer within you, wanting to break out, I am glad that it is finally time. But for now, what about we get you some more feminine clothes, I think Ashlyn is about the same size as you."

--------------

She had just come back out of the tent, dressed once more as a girl, having been primped and preened, when she heard shouting coming from the other side of the camp.

"A bear" a man shouted, "it was a gigantic bear."

Tana was pretty sure that she recognised the voice, it sounded just like John, James' brother.

She saw her beloved run across to the crying man, "are you hurt John?" he asked, "did it harm you?"

"No" John shook his head, "but Robbert is trapped. We were out collecting wood for the fire, he had a big amount on his back, was starting to strain under the load, but I just wanted to get a bit more. The days here might be hot, but the nights are often so cold. I sent him over to a wooded area, he was picking up twigs, and then I heard a roar. The biggest bear that you ever did see was bearing down on him, I shouted to warn him, but instead of running away, he just dropped all the fire wood and started to cower. I knew that I had to get help, so I ran here, I heard Robbert's scream of pain on the way here.

"What were you thinking John?" James admonished him, "you should never have left the camp. You knew that we were surrounded by wild animals, why couldn't you have been more careful?"

John shrugged, "he wasn't a very good servant anyway."

James sighed with disgust, and turned his back on his brother, "I will talk to you later" he promised and then went to form a search party.

"What?" John exclaimed at the shocked faces that watched him. "it isn't my fault, he should have been more careful" he said not realising he was repeating the words his brother had said about him.

-----------------

They only found scraps of Robbert, a foot, a piece of material, a basketful of wood. The bear had torn him apart. He hadn't known when John had sent him into the wood that he was going to his death, he didn't know that a mother bear was nearby with her young. If he had been allowed to, he would have recognised the signs that the area was occupied by bears. The claw marks that marred the trees were testament to that, but he had been too encumbered by the sheer weight of what he carried to be aware of his surroundings. He was too tired.

As they brought back the last remains of the boy, Tana shivered as she realised that she could have chosen John, she could have been the one killed by the bear. It was only the dream she had had that had protected her. She remembered the words that Saladin had said to her in it, "only travel with the man with brown hair, you will meet him very soon. But you must make the right decision or you will be in danger." Now she knew that the danger was death by bear.

--------------------

It soon became apparent that though she enjoyed the healing lessons that Saladin gave her, it wasn't enough for Tana. When the Sultan had first come all but a couple of the women had been in the tent, listening to the inspiring words that the great man imparted. But they soon lost interest, they had been healers for years, there wasn't much even the celebrated Saladin could teach them, they were to set in their ways to change the attitudes and methods that had served them through many years.

Tana though had an unquenchable thirst, she listened to each word he said like she couldn't live without them. When he would tell her about a healing method, she would counter his teachings with questions and demands for more.

"She needs to stay in Jerusalem" the Sultan told Richard, "there is much I can teach her, but your time here is short. I have heard that already you plan to make your long journey back to England."

"Her father would never agree to her staying here" the King replied, "he isn't happy about her being here at all. He would never leave her behind."

"Then he should stay too" Saladin suggested.

"You forget, Velan is a part of my personal guard. I can not let him stay behind, I have a need of him."

"Surely one man is as good as another, he could be replaced."

"Maybe I could, but the question is do I want to?"

"That is something you will have to decide, but thinking about it, I though that Tana was to be married. Surely her father would be willing to leave her with her husband's protection?"

"Mmm, yes, I think you could be right, but they are not married yet."

"Well what are you waiting for?" Saladin urged, "call for your guard, and inform Velan that there is to be a wedding."

----------------

When it was finally decided, the day came quickly. Tana wore a white silk dress that floated around her feet like a cloud. Its long sleeves flowed around her wrists, every time she moved it shimmered. Her blonde hair, still short had been curled and now peaked out of the embroidered lace veil that she wore. She wore wild Jerusalem blooms twisted into a coronet adorned her head.

She stood in a sun lit room, Saladin had invited all the wedding party into his palace, they and their guards. She had been given the room to prepare herself, but once she saw the luxury within she had found it difficult to do anything but gaze at its beauty. Multi coloured cushions scattered low couches, flowers festooned every shelf, the windows were large, and ornate. There were no shutters there, for rain and other bad weather was sparse. All this reflected on the white walls, and the large polished metallic screens that ran from floor to ceiling. And this was only one room, when she had first entered through an archway, she had been astounded to hear what sounded like a bubbling brook, she had been shocked to see a large body of water before her, inside the palace. Water that exuded the smell of roses, and when she had dipped her finger in, she had found out it was warm. A woman stood to the side, she had white skin, and had told her that called Mary, that she had originally come from Britain but now lived in this sunny place. She had curtsied to Tana, and told her that the room was a bath. She had shivered when she had laid in it, she had experienced nothing like it before. She had had baths before, but in drafty rooms, with only a fire for heat, the water had soon grown cold, and she colder. This was different, it was like the water was continually replaced with more hot water, and it was deep, she would be able to swim in it if she had wanted to.

So as she looked at herself in the reflecting metal, she knew that everything was about to change. Saladin had told her that the set of rooms were hers for as long as she had need of them, that they were right next to another suite of rooms that right now was occupied by her groom. In the middle between them, she knew though she had not dared to see, was a room that contained the bed of her wedding night.

------------------

In a moon lit room, he waited for her. He knew that she would have spent the whole day bathing, and looked after. He himself had enjoyed the massage that he had received, though he hoped that the same man hadn't touched her tender skin.

It was strange getting wed at night, but he had been informed by Saladin that it was too hot a day for such festivities.

Now as he looked around the romantic setting, he had to agree, shadows were set by the moon, and the numerous fires torches that were positioned around them.

He smelt her before he saw her, the scent of roses told him that the bride had arrived. Before her young native girls, threw petals on the ground for her to walk on. Her eyes sought him out, bright blue, she watched him.

"Hello Tana" he murmured as he took her hand.

King Richard took the ceremony, marrying them as was his right as the head of the Church. She repeated the words she had to, but hardly knew what she was saying though she meant her vows, she was too overcome by the face of her groom. Finally they were man and wife, and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

------------------

By day Saladin filled Tana's mind full of cures, and healing practise. By night James kept her busy with other activities. She was so busy she didn't notice time fleeing; it had been nearly a year since her wedding. She didn't realise this until word came that King had been captured by Leopold of Austria, and was being held at Dürnstein Castle, along with four of his guard, her father amongst them.

"James, I have to go to him" she had exclaimed.

James knew that there was nothing she could do, but he also realised that she was too far away from her father in his hour of need. "We will tell Saladin" he told her, "and leave for Europe within the week."

Saladin had been most worried about Richard and his men, even though they had started as enemies; he had come to respect the Crusader and wished him well. Even more than that he wanted to best for his student, but he knew that there was no more he could teach her. She had surpassed him now, having sought out many of the other healers that lived in the city and around. "I will give you provisions" he told her, "and fast horses. May Allah be your guide, and grant you what you desire."

--------------------------------

It took them a long time, but eventually they managed to reach Europe. They heard that Leopold had given Richard to the Holy Roman Emperor, Henry VI and was being held at Trifels Castle. Between them they decided that the best thing they could do to help secure the men's release would be to go back to England and help Queen Eleanor raise the ransom that had been demanded.

But the hopes they had had to help were quickly dashed when they found out that Prince John had taken all his family's wealth and properties, his parents were destitute, living as paupers, and his brother was in Newgate prison.

When they reached his ancestral home, it was to find it partly burnt, and many of the servants that usually served in the house, were now working the fields.

One of them ran over when she saw James. "No! No!" she shouted, almost hysterical, "you can't be here. Prince John will send the soldiers as soon as he hears that you are in England. I am surprised that they are not here already waiting for you."

"But this is my home," he shook his head; "where else can I go?"

"I don't know; Sir, I wish I did. The Prince has given your home to one of his lackeys, as reward for helping him in his tyrannical rule. All those in that house are loyal to John, want him to be King, they would sooner kill you than help you."

"But….."

"I am sorry Sir……I have to get back to work…..or my family won't eat….I am sure you understand."

"Come on James" Tana urged him, "we have to get back to the horses. We have to get to safety. I have an idea about where we can go."

--------------------

The man opened the door, and looked out at those that stood on his threshold. "Is that you James?" he asked, staring at the face that brought back memories of a journey two years ago, "is young Tom still alive?" he asked.

"Hello coachman" Tana grinned, "I look a bit different to the last time you saw me."

"I am sorry young lady, I don't recognise you" he responded.

She leant in closer, "it's me coachman, it's young Tom."

"But…..you are a girl."

"Yep, and I was back then too. I was just disguised as a boy."

"Why?" he stammered.

"Stories can wait for later, can we come in?" James interrupted, "Life is dangerous out here."

"Yes of course, come in, quickly" the coachman agreed, "England had become a dangerous place, especially for supporters of Richard."

Once they were settled Tana told the coachman her story. "I have to say coachman, I had to lie to you, and my family wasn't like I told you nor was my life. My only defence is that I wanted to be close to my father. I hope you can forgive me."

"I do forgive you Tana" he took hold of her hand, "but you should know, everyone in Nottingham thinks you are dead. When I got home after I dropped you of in London, the whole town was alive with talk about what had happened to you. I heard your father had organised a search for you but then you turned up at the King's ball on Christmas Day. But you never came home, you disappeared." He started to laugh, "you went to the holy land."

"I did" she agreed, it was quiet for a moment, "you know, you never told me your name. I can't keep calling you coachman."

"Sorry la……, I mean Tana, it is William, but everyone calls me Will."

----------------------

"Life has got really hard around these parts recently" Will told them. "soldiers have been patrolling the area, from what I have heard every city, twon and village in the land is crawling with tehm. They kill our animals, burn our fields, damage our houses and steal our women. Under the pretence of raising money for the King's ransom, they are taxing us to the hilt. We hear that noble men turned out of their homes have taken to robbery, but not to cover their wealth, but to help the poor, those that are perishing from lack of food."

"My parents had to flee their home" James commented, "I wonder if they are doing that."

"Your parents?" Will asked, not being privy to who James really was.

"My father is the Earl of Leicester" he explained.

"Oh" Will responded. He stared at James, as if he was thinking and then repeated himself, "oh, I heard about your parents, the Earl of Leicester you say?"

James nodded his head.

"From what I have heard, they have joined Fulk FitzWarin in Mortimer Forest. He is one of the noblemen working to right the wrongs piled on the Poors' heads. They have set up a base deep in the forest away from prying eyes; I assume they are living there."

"Then that is where I need to go" James stated, and looked at Tana, "if you agree."

"I would go anywhere you led me, my love" she smiled, "plus I think we might be able to help."

"I will take you there if you want" Will offered, "I have friends amongst the 'bandits.' In fact, things have got so bad recently, I might join Fulk myself, my family would be safer hidden in that forest, that out in the open here. I fear for their safety everyday, we being on Richard's side."

"Well that is sorted then" Tana clapped her hands with glee.

----------------

It was rough in Mortimer forest, the Earl of Leicester, named Robert, tried to protect his wife, Petronilla, from the rigours of life, though she hardly let him, as she was always surrounded by women and children, comforting their fears with a happy story, with a kind word, or a loaf of bread.

And yet again, she was in the middle of the children, telling them a tale. Robert would have laughed, if he hadn't been so worried about their future and what the fate of his beloved twin sons was.

He knew that John was in Newgate, and prayed every night for God to give the young man the strength to survive.

He had heard nothing of his other son James in months. Even though the true King had never returned from the crusades, he had heard from others the story of the young lad Tom really being Lady Tana of Bolsover Castle and how Richard had conducted a marriage ceremony.

"I just hope you are still in Jerusalem" he muttered under his breath, and then started to listen to the tale that his wife was weaving.

---------------------

"This is a story that my mother told me and her mother before her, going back goodness how long. It tells of a young woman called Alia who lived in a time when our ancestors lived in caves and mammoth bone lodges. For many years she had lived on her own, until she met a man who took her to meet some nearby people, ones she didn't know.

Despite her lack of contact with anyone for so long, she quickly got used to the flow of life. She was a remarkable woman, a healer, and those she stayed with wanted to adopt her into their people within no time.

Many wanted her, both for her beauty and for her skills and abilities, but in the end the young man who had won her heart in her lonely cave was the victor.

It is said that she left, to start a new life with her Jonlar, but she left behind a different way of thinking. They started hunting animals not just for the food and provisions they would provide but for their usefulness. Horses raised to carry riders, wolves for protection and aurochs, what we know now as cows, for the milk they could provide.

Yes Alia left many ideas, ones that the people's descendants past through time" she whispered quietly, "it is said that I am of the line of those ancient people."

She didn't get a chance to tell any more about Alia, or any other stories for at that moment came the sound of approaching horses.

---------------------

They had been riding through the forest so long that was beginning to feel like they would end up in Scotland if they had to journey any more. Over the last few years she had spent so much time travelling, she could hardly remember her home, which she had learned that Prince John had given it to someone else. She longed to feel the rough stone under her hands again. More than that she wished she could hear her father's voice again.

"We can't be far now" Will told them, "we must be very close, in fact I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't get a welcoming party soon."

"Oh that is nice" she murmured not really listening.

"Well just as though they don't slit our throats before they let us explain why we are here, and looking for them."

"Is that likely?" James asked, worried etching lines on his forehead at the thought of what danger he might have brought his wife to.

"Noooo" Will responded, and then mumbled under his breath, "I hope not anyway."

------------------------

Fulk hurried through the trees, his men behind him. This land was theirs; they couldn't afford interlopers entering it for it would be too dangerous. He knew that Prince John's men were on the look out for him, as they were for the other noble men that like him had took to taking back the money that the soldiers stole from the poor. He wasn't about to let someone learn of their location.

"Do you think it is the soldiers?" Robert asked fearfully.

Fulk shook his head, "from what I can here_, _there are only a couple of horses, three at the most and they are going to slow for soldiers. I think it is just travellers, who have just happened too close to us. Hopefully they will just pass by harmlessly, but we have to position ourselves to stop them coming closer." They came to the trees that lined a natural pathway, "do you think you can manage to climb one of the trees?"

Robert grinned, "I haven't climbed a tree since I was a boy" he said, and choosing one with low lying branches, shimmied up it. "I don't seem to have lost the knack of it though" he quietly said to himself, settling down, his back to the truck.

Within moments, he saw the riders as they silently past his tree, and then veered in the direction of their small settlement. He looked through the leaves at where Fulk sat in the next tree, a look of worry on his face.

-------------------

A whistle ripped through the silent forest, and then they were surrounded by weapon wielding men.

"You need to go another way friend" a man stepped forward.

"We are looking for Fulk FitzWarin" Will told them.

"What business do you have with him?"

"We have come to join his battle" he looked at the man and woman who rode next to him, "and we hear that you have the Earl of Leicester staying with you, this is his son and daughter in law."

"James" gasped a man.

-------------------

Robert walked proudly back into camp, his son by his side. When Petronilla saw them, she ran over to them, tears flying from her eyes. She enveloped James in a hug only a mother could give, both enveloping but never cloying. "You are here" she gazed up at his wonderful face.

"Mother, I have someone to introduce to you. You remember Tom who stayed with us before I left for the Crusades. When he was really a she, may I introduce you to my wife, Tana."

His mother gasped, and immediately hugged her new daughter in law, "I knew there was something about you that was strange" she told her, "something not quite right. I remember that Christmas when you sung for us all, your voice was like an angels, too pure even for a boy. But I didn't see past your appearance, it was just something that niggled at me, now I know what it was."

Tana blushed, "I am sorry I deceived you all."

"Oh that doesn't matter, I am sure you had a good reason. Anyway how could I hold anything against the woman that has brought such a look of joy to my precious son's face?"

Tana shook her head, not knowing what to say.

"When did you marry?" Petronilla asked.

"I am sure that they have loads of stories they can tell us" laughed Robert, "but I think we should let them get settled first."

-----------------------

After they had rested, they were led into an open area, restless people ready to hear what they had to tell. They told them about the journey to Jerusalem, James explained how John's servant had been torn apart, Tana informed them of the dreams she'd had, ones that had told her that danger lay in her path if she chose John. The conversation had stopped at this point; James had never known about the dreams and was intrigued and a little disturbed by their existence.

She then went on to describe their glorious wedding.

"Oh I wish I had been there" sighed Petronilla, "I would have liked to see my precious son marrying his beloved."

"Maybe one day you can renew your vows" Robert said cryptically, like he knew something that no one else did. "They could have it blessed."

"That would be wonderful" Tana smiled, though as her father had been present at the marriage in Jerusalem, she wasn't so bothered.

"I think that is a wonderful idea" James agreed, "but not yet, I would like my brother as my best man, and would like to be married yet again by King Richard, but in Westminster Abbey as it should be."

Tana started to explain the teachings that she had received from Saladin, and other notable healers in her time in Jerusalem, but she was stopped when it became necessary that she instead showed them her skills.

------------------

"Pass me my bag" she requested of James while pressing a sheep skin to a lad's bleeding cut. She rummaged through it and pulled out a packet of crushed alfalfa leaves which she put into a bowl of boiling water for it to steep. She knew that they would help the blood to clot, though the bleeding was already starting to slow. Within no time, she had the wound wrapped up and the boy went back to his play.

But as news got around that she was a healer, more and more people came to Tana. She gave hawthorn tea to a man with digestive problems, she steeps sorrel and gave it to a woman who kept throwing up, and generally felt sick all the time, and got a child to breath in the vapours of peppermints when they had a breathing problem.

She was in demand nearly all the time, but she still found time for her husband, and his family. She spent many hours listening to Petronilla tell her stories.

---------------------

"This is the story of the first dog" Petronilla told them all as they sat in a circle warmed by a roaring fire in the middle. She glanced down at the faithful friend that sat at her feet, its tongue lolling out of its mouth. "Humans haven't always lived with dogs, once they didn't have any animals, but then came Alia."

Tana grinned, already after being at the ever moving camp for less than two weeks she had heard many tales past through the lips of her husband's mother, but the ones that she enjoyed the most was the ones about Alia who seemed strangely familiar, like a long lost sister or other relative.

"Alia had been out checking snares with her new friend, many of them were empty but sprung, and they had wolf tracks leading from them. It had been a cold winter, snow still lay on the ground, and going from snare to snare was hard work. Eventually the two women decided they were hungry, making some snow seats, they sat down to eat some roast meat. A white ermine must have smelled it for it came to investigate. The two women had just been talking, when Alia saw it, within seconds she had a sling in her hand, a stone placed in it and was whizzing it over her head."

Tana sat forward at this point, remembering how James had taught her to use a sling, she knew it was a hard skill to master and she felt an affinity with the woman who had lived long ago.

"She killed the animal, and that was when she decided that she wanted more furs like that one to make a special outfit. Her friend didn't want to leave her, so she came to as Alia went searching for more ermine. She found an area that showed signs of habitation and used what was left of the meat to tempt the animals out. She had just killed many of them, when a black wolf appeared and proceeded to make off with one of them. Alia wasn't having that, the ermines were her kill and she wasn't going to allow the animal to steal it. So out came her sling again and a second later the wolf was dead."

"That was some skill your Alia had, the sling isn't an easy weapon" James commented.

"Alia was the best" she informed her son, and then got back to the story. "She soon felt guilty about killing the animal when she realised it was a nursing mother, and it was out of season. She knew that somewhere there was a den with frightened baby wolves in it that would never see their mother again. So she made a decision, she would find the den, and help the pups. She tracked the black wolf's footprints back to its den and there amongst its dead brothers and sisters, she found a small quaking animal. She took the little pup, and raised it herself, she became its mother, part of its pack, and it became her best friend. Though…" Petronilla stopped and looked mischievously at everyone, "it is funny how the animal that is known as man's best friend was first raised by a woman."

--------------------

Time moved quickly hidden away in that forest, and before she knew it Christmas had come and gone, and news had arrived that King Richard had been released and was making his way back to England. It was the news that they had been waiting for and Tana itching to get out of what felt like a prison had asked James to take her to meet the King's boat.

James had refused; much to Tana's annoyance, so one night when everyone was asleep she slipped from the camp, and taking her horse rode for Dover.

Once again she had dressed as a boy, though this time she didn't cut her hair, just hid it under a cap. She knew that she might be in danger if anyone saw her glorious blonde mane but couldn't bring herself to destroy it yet again. She knew that James would be angry with her enough as it was.

She walked through the dark forest, her horse behind her. She had a sling clamped into her trembling hands, a knife tucked into her skirt. Even though she didn't know the area, she had always had a good sense of direction, and kept walking south, knowing that eventually she would come to the end, and to a road or pathway.

In the dark, the trees' branches and leaves dancing around her, it was easy to think that a ghost stood hidden just out of her sight, ready to attack her, she shook her head to clear the disturbing images that flew through the her mind, and concentrated on walking.

Far of she heard the howl of a wolf, and shuddered. She didn't fancy meeting any of the actual dangers that this area of England held.

She patted her pocket, to make sure she had enough stones, and took a couple out just in case. She had just slotted one in when she heard a bush up ahead rustle ominously. She started to whip the sling around, in readiness for whatever was up ahead, alert, and waiting.

She didn't have long to linger, as within seconds a large wolf was bearing down on her. She threw the stone at its head, hitting it right between the eyes.

After a shocked expression formed on the animal's face, it fell to the ground dead.

Yet again she heard branches creak, this time behind her. She whirled around, put another stone in her sling, and yet again stood waiting for the beast about to strike.

A human head appeared through the leaves, she nearly threw the stone anyway, so frightened she was. "James" she cried, "I could have killed you."

James ignored what she said; he just marched over to her, shuddered when he saw the dead wolf and said "what are you thinking Tana?"

But she didn't feel contrite, she felt angry, "I just want to see my father" she cried, "I can't wait any longer. You wouldn't let me leave; you were too worried about my safety. Well as you can see" she nodded at the wolf, "I can look after myself. I am going, you can't stop me, even if you drag me back to the camp now, I will escape again, you can't keep an eye on me all the time."

"Can't I?" James growled.

Tana stamped her foot, "no, you can't."

James started to laugh at the fury that emanated from his beloved's eyes. "Okay, you can go" he conceded, "but I am coming too."

Tana threw her arms around him, and kissed him on the mouth.

"Hey, hey" he said, "I would rather kiss my wife, not young Tom" and he took of her cap, letting her hair tumble down her back. "That is much better" he sighed, feeling its silkiness."

--------------------

"What do you mean we are not going yet?" Tana shouted at her husband half an hour later.

James took her hands into his, and kissed her fingertips, "it is too dangerous Tana. We will go but your idea of dressing as a peasant is a good one; we will leave the horses behind and borrow a cart and donkey. That way everyone who sees us will think that we are just going about our business."

"But it will be so slow" she moaned.

"But surely it is better to get there slowly, than race ahead but get stopped before we get there."

Tana's head dropped to her chest, and she thought, she really wanted to get to her father as soon as possible, but she didn't know how long she would be waiting around Dover until the King's ship arrive. "Okay" she agreed, though she still wasn't happy.

She followed him back to the camp, the sun was just appearing in the sky when they reached it, and people were already moving about, lighting fires and starting to cook breakfast.

Petronilla was stood over a large bowl of steaming porridge, looking anything but an Earl's wife. When she saw them approaching, she smiled in greeting and ladled out food into two bowls and gave them to them. "So you found her?" she stated the obvious, and then she looked directly at Tana, "he was so worried about you when you disappeared. I have never seen him so scared, you really shouldn't have gone."

"I know" Tana conceded, "but I just want to see my father, is that so wrong?"

"No it is not" James hugged her, "mother, I have agreed to accompany Tana to Dover to meet the King's boat, we need a cart."

Petronilla frowned "are you sure? Shouldn't you talk to your father?"

"I am not a child anymore, I can make my own decision" he said harshly, a little too much.

"Don't speak to your mother like that" Robert came striding up to them.

James had the grace to look embarrassed, "I am sorry mother" he repented, "please forgive me."

Petronilla pushed aside the hurt that was evident in her eyes, and smiled at her son, "I would forgive you for anything" she said and reached out and took his hand. "And know that I support you in any decision you make."

"Decision?" roared Robert.

"I am going to take Tana to Dover" he told him.

"Are you mad?" his father said, "Prince John's men are everywhere. You are much safer here in this forest."

"Maybe so, but it is something we have to do, but we will take every precaution, Tana is going to be dressed as a boy, as young Tom, look she is already wearing boy's clothes, and I want to borrow a cart to travel in. We can pose as farmers."

"Well I still think your plan is stupid" his father maintained, "but I will make sure that Fulk gives you what you need. I just hope that God protects you both, despite your foolishness."

------------------

They set off later that day, the cart filled with straw. They had a long journey ahead of them, and would let the donkey that was pulling their cart rest regularly.

"I am hoping to be in Epsom by nightfall" James informed her, "it isn't that far, about forty miles."

They trundled along, enjoying the winter sun that was warm for once.

"I think we will have a good summer this year" James observed, seeing that flowers had already started to bloom, peeking out from the snow that still lay on the ground.

They past through little villages, and bustling towns, they managed to convince soldiers at borders that they were just visiting a nearby town, that they were simple farmers.

Everything was going well, too well Tana worried, but still they travelled, passing by sheep grazing, and people out working fields, accompanied by soldiers standing over them hitting them every so often.

"Don't look" James warned, not just because she would be upset but because the soldiers might consider them spies and put them to work too.

Finally they reached Epsom, where they camped in a nearby wooded area, using its trees for protection from the meddlesome and nosy.

--------------------

Over the next couple of days they continued their journey, thankfully they were not stopped once and who they were was never revealed. Finally they arrived in Dover, just in time to see the King's boat mooring, and the Prince standing at the quay with a welcoming party.

"You would think that he would hide from Richard" James said dryly, eyeing the soldiers warily. "From what I have heard, he even offered to pay for the King to be kept imprisoned.

"Do you think they are going to cause trouble?"

"I think it is very likely" James said, pulling out a sword that he had hidden in the straw of the cart. "You stay here; I don't want you on a battle field."

"Why?" she asked, "it isn't like I haven't seen fighting before; I was there by your side when Tyre was taken."

"Okay, but be careful."

Together they crept towards the beach, hoping that the weapons they had wouldn't have to be used. The boat was so close now, they could see little men running around its deck, and at the front, at the bow was stood two figures, cloaks waving around them in the wind.

"It's the King" James whispered.

Tana nodded, though she was more interested in the tall man next to the King. "Is that my father?" she wondered, straining her eyes to have a better look.

Soon the boat was half out of the water, men pulling it up. And the two men were walking along the sand, followed by soldiers.

"Are you welcoming me back brother?" she heard King Richard say, "or are you here to kill me, and make yourself King."

from where she was stood she could see the anger rip through Prince John's face, she waited with baited breathe for his response wondering if he would attack. she tightened her hand over the hilt of her knife.

"Brother, what do you mean?" came the pathetic reply from the boy who would be King. "I have come to see you, and welcome you back to England. I have kept your throne warm while you have been gone."

"I bet you have" she heard the King dryly answer.

Suddenly she knew that the danger was over. silently, with tears in her eyes, she ran over the beach towards them, she stopped when she saw that she had been noticed, and soldiers on both sides had raised their swords and surrounded the King to protect him.

"Father" she shouted to the man who she knew now was her parent, "it is me Tana."

The King raised his arm to tell the soldiers there was no danger, and soon she was enveloped in her father's arms.

"My little girl" he sighed, smoothing her hair that had freed itself from her cap on her run over.

"Father I have missed you."

---------------------

It was as if the King had never gone, all land that John had stolen was given back to its rightful owners, and life started again.

For Tana and James, they had the blessing they had desired. soon in front of the archbishop of Canterbury, at Westminster Abbey, they repeated the vows they had said in Jerusalem, with their families and friends surrounding them.

Everything was how it should be, she was happy, though she had been feeling a little nauseous recently.

-----------------------

Time moves quickly when you are having fun,

And moves so slowly when danger has come,

But now Tana has all that she needs,

So we leave her, as she starts to breed.

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If you have been enjoying my fan fiction, then please review. I would appreciate it.


	13. Dana, 1399AD

Down through time, we wander again,

Until we stop to see a woman fleeing down a lane,

Wonder where she is going, why she is so scared?

Well I have a story for you, have I got you snared?

--------------------

Dana – 1399AD

The woman ran, for all she was worth, she had left the pathway now, knowing it wasn't safe. Over fields she sprinted, sinking in the mud, always carrying the bundle in her arms. She had to get away, she had to get to safety, even now she could hear them thudding behind her, she on foot, they on horseback.

She darted to the left, down a small embankment, maybe if she could cross the river she reasoned. Her skirt snagged against brambles and angrily she ripped it away, and continued to run.

She reached the river, and looked for a place where it would be easy to get across, but she wasn't paying attention, she was too frightened and her foot slipped in the mire.

Before she knew it she was floundering in the water, the bundle she had held dragged out of her arms by the current.

The last thing she saw before she went under to her watery grave, was the little hand waving in amidst the clothes as the babe floated down the river.

-------------------

The only thing that Dana knew about the life she had been born to was her name. it had been embroidered along with into the little silk nightdress she had worn, and the purple velvet wrap that had protected her from the course woollen blankets that had saved her life.

her new parents had found her by the side of a river, they were simple folk, but they knew about the trouble that had been going on in London, how the King had been locked up, and his crown taken from him. It was said that there had been no children from his marriages, but they had wondered when they saw the royal crest next to the child's name.

That day they had vowed that they would never reveal to her or anyone else what they suspected about who she was. They knew that she would be only used to try to win back the crown for wicked men, and Henry Bolingbrook, Henry the fourth seemed a good King and man and they had no wish to rock the boat, and put the young child's life in danger in the process.

They had been childless, the woman seemed to loose babe after babe, and finally they had travelled across to Assisi in Italy to seek the help at the shrine of the Patron Saint of Fertility, St. Clare. They had been returning to their home empty handed, and for the woman empty bellied, but when they saw the small wet pitiful child, they took it as a sign from God that they should raise her, as their own.

---------------

She had known him all her life, as long as she could remember she had memories of him. When her new parents had found her, he had been only three months old. often his mother would come and visit her dearest friend, and place him next to Dana in her cot. Side by side, they had investigated each others toes, often she had been found rolled over to be closer to him, sucking the hem of his sleeve.

And when they were older it was the same, as toddlers they had played together, sharing their toys, making each other giggle. They had been the best of friends.

And the friendship grew as they aged, by the time they were nine they had been inseparable. Always together, they had terrorised the country side with their jokes and pranks, but everyone knew that there was only joy and lights in their hearts, so would laugh with them when they realised what was going on.

in Dana's childish mind, she had envisioned a day when she would marry her closest friend, but when they were ten this came crashing down.

His mother died, and as he was the youngest of ten children, his father didn't think he could cope any longer. He was given to a monastery, he promised to educate him, feed and clothe him under the proviso that when he was of age, he would enter the ministry and became a monk.

All Dana's dreams were shattered the day that he left, they had faded to nothing, and he wouldn't be the man she had thought after all.

But life went on, for some time she had refused to accompany her mother to take food to the holy order where he now resided, so angry was she, but eventually she missed him so much that she had joined her mother, and had spent stolen moments with the boy who was her soul mate.

When they turned twelve, everything changed yet again. She still went with her mother, took food to the monks who looked after him, but they were not allowed to see him, for the next four years he was only allowed contact with the brothers, never with the outside world. And then for the last two years until he took his vows, he was sent to work in another parish up north, far far away.

So on the morning of the eighteenth anniversary of the day her parents had found her, the day she celebrated as her birthday, she had no hope that she would see him. Her dream, though matured, was only that. She knew that she would never be his wife, he belonged else where, for she knew that on the very next day, he would become Brother Joseph.

------------------

Dana stared glumly at the presents that sat on a table in front of her. She didn't want to open them, the only gift she wanted she couldn't have.

"Oh Joe" she sighed softly to herself, "why did your father have to put you into a monastery?"

Tears trickled down her face. For as many years as she could remember she had dreamt that on her eighteenth birthday she would marry the man of her dreams. Even after the eight years of him being away, and the four of knowing what was to become of him, she had hoped that one day he would come for her, turn his back of the profession his father had chosen for him, and give his heart to her.

"Dana" her mother shouted from upstairs, "can you come upstairs, and I have something for you."

quickly she wiped her tears on the sleeve of her dress, and hurried up the stairs.

Dana's mother was standing in her room, a large box sat on the bed next to her. she took one look at her daughter's reddened eyes, and went over to her. "Oh Dana, don't cry" she said, feeling the girl's shoulders shake with grief. she put her arms around her, and tried to comfort her, she didn't need to be told what ailed her, she already knew of Dana's love for the son of her dead friend. She knew that nothing she could say would help heal the pain that existed in her daughter's heart, so instead she distracted her.

"Have a look in the box" she told the girl.

Dana yet again used her sleeve to dab the tears that prickled her eyes, and turned to the box. She prised the lid of and peered in at the contents.

It contained robes, the like she had never seen before. For most of her life she had worn serviceable brown dresses, they didn't show stains so easily, that were so prevalent when you worked on a farm. She stared at it reverently, barely daring to touch it as if it would fade away like a dream.

Her mother started to laugh, "they won't melt you know" she said kindly, and stepped forward and lifted part of it out of the box.

Dana's breath caught in her throat when she saw the beauty of the surcotte, the outer dress "but how?" she asked, wondering how they had managed to afford such wonderful clothes.

"Your father and I have been saving all these long years, we wanted you to have something of great beauty when you came of age, something that could also be your wedding attire.

"My wedding garments?" she queried in wonder as she reached out and touched the white cotte still in the box, it was underskirt that she would wear under the surcotte. It was soft, more delicate while the clothes she was used to were rough in comparison. "They are beautiful" she murmured, examining the intricate dark blue embroidery on the pale blue surcotte.

Her mother helped her into the outfit, placing the slippers that had been in the bottom of the box on her feet. "You look lovely" she smiled.

Dana examined her appearance in the reflector; the cotte peaked out where the surcotte divided at the front of her skirt.

"It laces at the back" her mother said, tightening them so that her waist was more visible. She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out strands of pearls. She put one around her neck, and the others she used to arrange Dana's blonde hair in a complicated style. "Pretty as a picture" she sighed, "You will make a beautiful bride."

Dana looked thoughtfully at the older woman, "that is the second time you have mentioned my wedding. Do you know something I don't?" For a wild moment she was considering that Joe was going to come for her but that died as it arose, he was going to be a monk, there was no way that he would change his mind.

Her mother took a breath, and then uttered the words that would change her life forever, "your father has found you a husband."

Shocked, Dana looked at her mother, "who?" she asked breathlessly.

"The son of an old friend of your fathers, he met them when he went to Oxford farming fayre last week. They got talking; the son is only twenty, and a good man. Your father is adamant that you must marry him."

"But I don't know him, how can I marry him if I don't love him?"

"Love will grow" her mother told her, "I have seen many young women marry men they hardly knew, but it always works out in the end. You will be happy I promise, and just think of the babies you will have."

Dana smiled in spite of herself, she had longed for a child since she had started her moon times.

--------------------

Half heartedly she joined in the revelry of her birthday party. She didn't enjoy it, how could she? With such a sentence over her head, she could think of nothing but being married to a man she didn't know, while the one that she loved was elsewhere.

She was so caught up in her misery, her melancholy that she didn't hear the hooves of horses drawing up outside her home. She did not take notice when the front door opened and a man walked in. She was still in her dream like state when he went right up to her, and tapped her on the shoulder.

Startled she looked around; the person she saw was someone she had thought she would never see again. He had grown up in the years since she had last saw him, but she would have known his dear face anywhere.

"Hello Dana" the near monk greeted her.

"Joe" she said with a strangled cry, hungrily examining every inch of his glorious face.

"It has been a long time" he commented, staring into her eyes.

"Aye, it has, too long. I have missed you more than I can say" she responded, widening her view to take in every aspect of his appearance.

Joe, or Brother Joseph as he would soon be known was wearing the typical cassock that a monk wore, and his head had been shaved to make a bald cap surrounded by a crown of wonderful red hair.

"You have a slap head" she teased, touching his bare skin.

"Hey, it is called a tonsure" he defended, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from his head. Their hands lingered for a moment before they self consciously pulled them apart.

"Well do I get a drink?" he asked, trying to ignore the uncomfortableness of the situation and how he had felt a spark when they had touched.

----------------------

"I have an announcement" her father said later, "this party isn't just to celebrate our daughter's birthday but it is to announce that she will be getting married soon. May I introduce the man who will be her groom" he pointed to a man she had never seen before. He was short, fat, and extremely ugly. She was a sensible girl, and knew that those things didn't matter, but what did was the way he was looking at her like she was a slab of meat, and peering at the home and land around them, with a speculative glint in his eye.

She looked away in terror, and immediately saw Joe staring at her with shock and pain in his eyes. She ripped her eyes away from his; she couldn't stand the hurt in them, as it echoed so excruciatingly in her heart.

As she stared at her shoes, she didn't see the man come up behind her, she didn't realise he was there, not until he slapped her bottom and whispered something rude in her ear.

With revulsion she looked at the man that would be her husband, she tried to move away from him, but his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. "I am going to have fun with you."

-------------------------

Later that night she lay in bed thinking about her life, "how could it had turned out like this?" she wondered as she thought about how much she loved Joe.

She didn't know that Joe was thinking about her too, or that he had made a decision.

-------------------------

The morning after her birthday dawned bright and true, so different to her mood that was stormy and apprehensive.

When she walked into the kitchen to break her fast she was upset to see her intended sitting on a chair one foot up on the table.

"Well if it isn't the lovely Dana" he smiled insincerely, "come to join her husband to be for breakfast." He put his foot on the floor and patted the chair next to him.

Dana sat on another one, as far away from him as possible.

He got up, and swaggered over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders, he bent down and whispered in her ear, "you should do as I say" he angrily spat, "but I will make sure you always obey me once we are married."

She sat rigid in her seat, trying not to breathe in his rancid breath, but when one of his hands started to sliver down towards her chest she tried to scurry away.

He was about to slap her across her head, for having the audacity to flinch away from him, but her father walked into the room at that moment.

He saw the flushed face of his daughter, but took it not for embarrassment and fear but that she was enamoured of the man. "I am glad to see you two are getting on" he said and plonked down on a chair and helped himself to some of the freshly made bread, and churned butter. He eyed his daughter and the man that would soon be her husband and said "I am glad I met you and your father at that fayre, I was worried that you wouldn't like each other but I believe you will have a good marriage. You are such a good upstanding man; I know you will look after my daughter."

"I only wish to be a good husband and look after my wife" her intended simpered, "and to be a pillar of society."

"Yes indeed" her father answered, his eyes crinkling with joy at the respectful man before him.

Dana opened her mouth, about to tell her father exactly what this man that still hovered by her was like. But when she felt his fingers painfully tighten on her shoulder, she closed it again. But she didn't hold much hope for the future.

"After breakfast why don't you both take a walk down by the river" her father suggested.

Her husband to be, kept his pressure on her shoulder, "I think that would be a most excellent idea, don't you my dear?"

"Um yeah" she responded, knowing that at that moment there was nothing more unpleasant that having to take a walk with him.

"You can get to know each other better."

"Oh I intend to get to know my future wife much more" he said on the surface seemingly respectful, though only she heard the undertone that promise at something that she wouldn't like.

-------------------------

He was supposed to be preparing for taking his vows, but all he could think of was their childhood together, and the look of horror and disgust that had crossed her beautiful features when that thug had touched her. He couldn't bare the thought of such innocence being corrupted by such wickedness; he had to rescue her from it.

When he had tossed and turned the night before he had realised how much he loved the girl but he had still held to the belief that he was meant to be a monk and serve God in that way. He had meant to ride over this morning and talk to her father, to reveal what he had seen, to tell him what he feared, for he was pretty sure that her father had no idea of what the man he was giving his daughter to was really like.

His plans had changed by the morning. When he had finally fallen asleep, he had found himself in a dream that was unlike any that he had ever had before. In it he was standing before the throne of God, at the end of times. The Messiah had looked at him, making him cower in his sinfulness, and said "I never knew you, for years you worked in my name but never achieving the plans that I had set out for you. Your path never lay in that ministry, but in another, one that should have involved a wife. Go away from me."

Sadly he stared at the glorious face as it turned away from him.

Quite suddenly his dream was drawn in another direction, he was in a misted field, and could only just make out the image of a woman some distance from him.

A man had stepped up to him, "go to her" he had urged, "she is your destiny."

Joe had turned around and looked full into the face of the Messiah, "but I am to be a monk" he had said.

"But that is not my will for you. It never has been, it was humans that set you on that path, not me. Go to her, she needs you, rescue her, and together you will find your mutual futures" he had been told.

Joe had left the smiling Jesus behind and had run to the woman, the mist clearing around her face and he had seen that it was his dear beloved Dana.

So now after that dream, he rode to claim what was meant to be.

By the river he heard what sounded like a couple arguing, and was just urging his mount to go a different way when he recognised the voice of his dear childhood friend.

-----------------

"Leave me alone" Dana screamed, trying to prise herself away from the man's controlling arms.

"But i just want a little taste" the man said, trying to press his lips to hers.

"It isn't right" she still struggled in his arms and managed to squirm away. She ran towards the line of trees that ran along the river bank, hoping that she could hide herself behind one, thereby protecting herself from his repulsive onslaught.

With one thunderous step he caught up with her, grabbing her hair, he ripped her head back, "you won't escape from me so easily" he sneered all the while eyeing her body.

"No" she creid as he put his hand towards her chest.

"Shut up" he roared, striking a blow across her face.

"You have done it now" she yelled, "my father will see my face, and won't let me marry you."

"i will tell him you walked into a tree, he will believe me. He is stupid anyway, he thinks I am good, but i am telling you I am anything but, and I intend to plunder his riches in much the same way as I intend to plunder your body."

"My father isn't stupid, he is the wisest man I know. Just because you have managed to convince him that you are a good man doesn't mean he won't see through your disguise" she shouted at him, "and I intend to tell him what sort of man you really are, with this to back me up."

"Well I had better make sure that I get to enjoy your body at least once then."

She shuddered as she saw the look of lust in his eyes, "please" she pleaded.

"I am going to be your husband madam" he insisted, "don't you worry about that. But to make sure that the fool can't take back his owrd, I am going to ruin you. Plus I want to make sure you are all that your body promises. You will obey me" and he crushed his disgusting mouth onto hers.

-----------------------

Her blonde hair shone over his dull lifeless greesy mop. He would have known it anywhere, but at that moment was more concerned how the girl was struggling against the man.

He jumped off his horse, and ran to the tree that she was pressed up against.

Anger filled him as he saw the man's hands wander over her body.

"Oy" he shouted, pulling the man of her, "leave her alone."

The man looked at him condensdedly, "you are a monk, what do you know of womankind. Anywya we are to be married and she wanted to…."

He didn't get the chance to continue, as Joe punched him in his mouth.

"Joe" she creid, as he continued to pummel the man onto the leaf strewn ground, "don't, you will hurt him."

His eyes were ablazed when he looked at her, "do you mean you liked what he was doing to you?"

She sighed, "of course not" she said adamantly, "and I don't give a fig about him, I am just worried that you will get into trouble."

His gaze softened, "worried about me Dana?"

"Always" she asserted, "I love….."

he grabbed her hand, and led her towards his horse, "we will go and tell your father what he did" he told her.

"He will never believe it" the man spat blood, "he loves me, wants me for his son in law, why should he suddenly change him mind?"

"Because…." Joe started.

Dana laid a hand on joe's, "he is right, father won't believe us, I will have to marry him, and you will be punished."

"I won't let you marry him."

-------------------------

They rode as it the devil was behind them, which in a way he was. For sometime they just let the world flash them by, each wrapped up in their little worlds of blossoming love, and hopes realised. Finally sense prevailed, and Joe stopped the horse.

"Don't stop" she urged, staring at him with frustration and worry.

"But I have to; I have been letting the horse lead us. We have to make plans, where should we make for?"

Dana thought for a moment, and then said "my father would probably think we would make for the South, to somewhere like Portsmouth, so we can get across the channel. He would never consider that we might head north instead, we could find a little village near Leamington Spa or Coventry."

"And you don't think your father will realise that we would go North instead of South?"

"Maybe" she worried, "I don't know, but whatever happens we can't stay here."

Joe nodded his head in agreement, and clutched the reigns of the horse he rode. "Come on Lady" he urged, encouraging the animal to start their flight again, this time in the right direction, and hopefully to safety.

-----------------

By nightfall they had covered a lot of ground, so far there had been no sight of pursuers. They decided to stop for the night, bury themselves in leaves to keep warm.

"I'm just glad it isn't the middle of winter" Dana murmured as she fell asleep.

Joe watched her as she slept, he wasn't really tired so used he was to surviving on only a couple of hours sleep a day, and sometimes forgoing that as a penance.

"What have I done?" he mumbled to himself, "I have given away my faith in God for a woman.

A voice seemed to echo within his head, "you are not alone, my path wasn't in a monastery, but that doesn't mean I haven't something for you to do. Follow my laws, and you will find the completeness you have always sought. Teach her my ways, and when you marry I will put my stamp of approval on your marriage."

Joe didn't know what to say, everything within him seemed so little compared with the Lord, "thank you" he sighed, thankful that God was still close.

---------------------

Dana was dreaming; she was in a Church; music was playing enticing her on up to the altar. There she saw a man waiting for her, and when he turned around she saw it was Joe.

"Beloved" he said as she reached him, "look at all your friends and family here to celebrate our wedding."

She looked around and only saw happiness on the faces before her.

"But I thought…."

Joe put his finger on her lips, "ssh" he said, "just enjoy the moment."

She put aside the thoughts of how her family were suddenly pleased for her to marry him, somehow she realised that it was a dream, and was content to just enjoy the wedding she would never have in real life.

She had just started to speak her vows, when she heard the sound of hooves outside the Church.

-------------------

Dana was ripped from her dream by the noise, lurching out of her blankets, she started to grab their belongings and stuff them in bags.

She saw that Joe was doing to same, as well as settling the horse.

But it was too late; she saw a solitary figure riding hard towards them.

"Is it father?" she asked, trembling when she considered that it might be the man she was supposed to marry.

As the rider came closer, she realised that it was a woman, one who kept turning from staring at them to glance around at the way she had come, like she was afraid.

"It is your mother Dana" Joe said softly.

"No" Dana cried, stumbling towards the woman, "please don't take me back."

Her mother jumped off the horse, something that Dana had never seen her do before, and rushed at her, enveloping her in an embrace. She stroked her daughter's hair, and said "you have my blessing."

Dana stared at her mother, "you don't mind?"

Her mother shook her head, "I should have never agreed to your father's idea. Even more so I should have objected when he brought that young man home. I saw the way he looked at you, and even that he took liberties when he thought no one saw, but he was careful and your father wouldn't hear a word against him, thinking he was a fine upstanding man like his old friend."

"Couldn't you get father to listen?"

"No my love" the elder woman crooned, "I wish I could set everything straight but your father has decided what your fate will be. It is the way of things, how it has been done for a very long time."

"Surely if it is an old tradition then it is time that it was changed?"

Her mother laughed at this, bitterly, "maybe one day a woman will always be able to choose who she marries, without having to resort to such a drastic course of action as you have had to."

"So there is no hope?"

"There is every hope; I see it in the love that is evident in Joe's eyes. You two will have good lives, fruitful ones, but sometimes remember your old mum won't you?"

"Of course" tears stung Dana's eyes, "I will never see you again will I?"

"No, I don't think so." She looked around, "but we have talked to long, you need to go. Your father; and that man are not far behind me. Tell me where are you going?"

Dana frowned for a moment, could she trust her mother?" she wondered.

"We are heading north" Joe told her, "Dana thought your husband would head north for Portsmouth, so we decided we should head upwards."

"I thought so" her mother said grimly, "and so does your father." She looked again at her daughter, "you must travel east, head for Colchester. Go to a little bakers shop on West Stockwell Street; ask for John, he will help you. Just tell him I sent you."

"Won't father think of Colchester if you have friends there?"

"No, he has never met John. I knew him as a girl, we were friends."

Dana didn't ask any more, she could see from the look of deep pain on her mother's face that she shouldn't question her, "okay" she agree, and embraced her one last time.

She started to walk to where Joe was waiting to help her onto the horse, when her mother stopped her.

"I almost forgot, since the day we found you by that river, I have been making something for you to give to you on your wedding day." She paused for a moment as her emotions came to much. "This is as good a time as any to give it to you." She took a parcel out of the saddle bag of her horse, "it is a quilt. Don't open it now, your father might arrive at any time, but I made it with old material that was too important to just throw away, your first dress I made you, the blanket you refused to be parted with, that pair of pants you used to wear when your father taught you to ride, and then there is the silken wrappings we found you in by that river, I used the bit that had your name embroidered in it."

"And that funny sign?"

"Yeah the one that your father said was your emblem." She gave her the quilt, "try not to think to badly of your father, he is a good man."

"I know he is mother" Dana hugged her again, and then Joe helped her onto the horse, jumped up behind her and they were gone.

"My sweet little baby" her mother sobbed, "God gave you, and God took you away."

-------------------

They reached Colchester a couple of days later and didn't have any trouble locating the bakers shop on West Stockwell Street.

"Do you think he will help us?" Dana asked feeling unsure of herself.

"Well, we won't find out unless we knock" he responded, his hand on the knocker of the door. He banged it three times, hearing it echo around the empty shop.

Moments later they heard a man muttering, and a flour dusted man appeared at the door, "we aren't open yet" he told them, looking at them angrily.

"Oh I am sorry" Dana mumbled embarrassed, and feeling too frightened to tell him who she was.

"Are you John?" Joe shouted.

The man looked shrewdly at him, "everyone knows John the baker."

"Maybe that is true around here" Joe said, "but we come from further afield, and have been told to find you, and ask for your help."

"How can I help you?" John queried, but interested despite himself, he opened the door, "maybe you should go and visit the town's priest, and he might be able to assist you in whatever the problem is."

"But my mother told me to find you" Dana interrupted, "she said that you had known each other as children, that you were her friends, and that you would help us."

"And her name?"

"She is called Elizabeth."

The man went very pale, paler than the flour that sprinkled his clothes, "Elizabeth, your mother?" his voice trembled, "Elizabeth?" Suddenly he staggered back into the shop and sat down heavily on a chair. "Could it be?" he muttered to himself, "my Elizabeth?"

He looked up at Dana, "what does she look like?"

"She has white hair, though I remember when I was a child that it was rich ebony."

"Are her eyes the deepest blue, like the reflection of the sky on water on a summer's day?"

Dana thought for a moment "yeah she does."

"How is she?" John asked, his face hopeful, "is she well?"

"I saw her a few days ago; she was fine then….."

"Enough" Joe interrupted, "Dana's mother sent us to you for help, and we need it badly. Will you assist us? For surely we can't continue in the way we have."

"Come through to the back, and tell me about it. If Elizabeth has sent you to me, then I know that you are in dire need."

--------------------

He made them tea, and gave them some of his staler bread smothered with honey, and then sat back to hear their story. Tears fell down his face as he listened, "history repeating itself" he mumbled as he heard their sad tale.

Finally he knew everything, though not Dana's birth origins. He set down his cup, and said, "I will help you, of course I will. If someone had helped us….." he trailed off.

"You and my mother, you were more than friends weren't you?" Dana suddenly asked.

He nodded his head, "I loved her from the first moment I saw her, I was only five, and she was two, but I knew that my life would be incomplete without her in it. We grew up always together, our parents planned that we would wed, but then her father died, and her mother remarried. Her step father had other ideas, he wanted to make allegiances, and gave her to the son of an old friend of his. I tried to get her to run away with me like you have done, but she didn't dare cross him, cruel man that he was. But from what we had heard, your father was a good kind man, though from what you have told me, I think I want to change that opinion."

"He is a good man" Dana said quietly, "it is just that he is set in his ways. I don't believe that he would have tried to marry me off to that man if he had known what he was really like."

"Maybe not" John said thoughtfully, scratching his chin, he looked across at them, "are you married yet?"

"No" Joe said, "but that is something that needs to be rectified."

"Yes, you are quite right, though I must ask, is there any hurry?" he asked perceptively.

"Only that my father might find us, and drag me back."

"And" Joe looked at the girl he loved, "you have been alone with me, your reputation is in tatters."

Dana waved the thought away, "what do I care about reputation?"

"You might not know, but in the cold light of day you will" John told her, "I think you should marry today, I will go to the local priest and arrange it."

"But…."

"Don't worry, I will only tell him what I must. Anyway he is a kind man, and a good priest, he would be angry the way that the monastery tried to force Joe to join them."

And with that he hurried off, flour flying behind him, leaving two trembling fearful you people in his home.

------------------------

They were married later that day. The priest had managed to worm out of John the full story of the eloping couple but had great sympathy for them.

Though after the wedding, he had drawn Joe aside.

"I believe that in marrying your girl, you are doing God's will" he started, "but I also believe that he has a special future for you, something for you to accomplish. You are a man of God; just because you don't take the cloth doesn't mean that you aren't."

"Yes I feel it too, I had a dream not long ago that I believe was from God confirming what you have just said, it also said that Dana was part of my destiny."

"I will pray to God and see if he reveals anything else to me" the priest told him, "but for now, just enjoy married life, and do God's will."

Joe nodded his head, and bid the priest goodbye, and then he went to find his bride.

-----------------------

"I can't believe we are really married" Dana said later that night as they entered the small room that the baker had given them. "It is a dream come true, one that for a long time I thought would amount to nothing."

"I know my love" Joe replied, catching her around the waist and pulling her to him, "but maybe this will make you know that it is all real" he kissed her.

Dana smiled up at him, "now I feel even more dreamlike, woozy."

"Well then I will have to hold you tight until the dizziness goes away."

"I don't think it will ever go away as long as I am in your arms." Tears in her eyes, she told him what her heart sang out to him, sinking on the bed together, they embraced, and then Joe sat up and drew the thick velvet curtains around the bed.

"I love you" he murmured in the darkness.

----------------------

Time past; and they settled into married life. Dana saw no sign of her father, or the man she had been supposed to marry. Still she knew that as a married woman she was safe from them; there was nothing they could do to her.

Joe managed to get a job making bread at John's bakery, so along with the money that Dana brought in from doing people's laundry, they were able to afford the rent of a small house.

Life was good, each day they grew more and more in love, and that love had grown into something else, a baby.

And now at nearly nine months pregnant, Dana was nesting.

"I have to get everything ready for when the baby arrives" she muttered to herself, as she stood over a hot barrel of soapy water, pummelling the material inside with a battledore.

All the walls had been lime washed, cleaned top to bottom, a cradle now stood next to their bed, and the baby's clothes were all ready, both made by Dana, and given by other mothers.

All that really remained was to wash the quilt that her mother had made her. She picked up the edge of the material, and looked at it. Steam rose from it, and it looked clean.

"That will do" she decided, and squeezed as much of the water out and then put it in a wicker basket to drain.

She took it outside and tied one end of the quilt to a short rope that she had got Joe to put in the garden, then she twisted it around, wringing out the water. Finally she draped it over the washing line to dry, spreading it out to decrease the wrinkles.

---------------------

The man sauntered down the road; he was unused to this part of Colchester, more familiar with London as he was. He was looking for an inn that he had visited the day before, having become enamoured of a bar maid there.

He saw a woman in a nearby garden, taking washing down from a line. "My dear lady" he said to her, "can you direct me to the Rose & the Crown inn." He smiled at her politely, noting that she was a striking woman even as obviously pregnant as she was.

She opened her mouth to respond, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear, and that is when he saw it.

On a line drying outside for all to see was what looked like a quilt, and on it was a small segment of material that was embroidered with a name and the royal crest of the previous King.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Oh that, my mother made it" she smiled at him.

"No that material" his finger traced the embroidery.

Fear clutched her as she realised her mistake, terror poured out of her eyes.

The man saw the look of fear, "my name is Edmund Mortimer, I am the 5th Earl of March" he said gently, taking her hand "now tell me where did you get this?"

"Dana" a voice echoed from within the house.

"Dana?" the man asked, and looked again at the embroidery, specifically the name, "it is you" he suddenly realised, "you are the lost child, the child of Richard the second."

-----------------

Dana stared at the man with horror, fear shocking her to silence.

"Da-na" she heard Joe shout, "where are you?"

She didn't answer.

The back door opened, and out of the corner of her eye she saw her husband enter the garden.

"Dana" he said on seeing her, "why didn't you answer me?" That was when he saw the man, "who are you?" he asked immediately on the defensive.

--------------------

Before he had discovered Dana hanging out washing, Edmund had been the true King of Britain, when he had been a young child, he had briefly been the heir presumptive to King Richard II of England, until his destiny had been stolen from him, now before him he saw a way to push his rights forward, the only thing that stood in his way was Dana's husband.

---------------------

Joe didn't like the look of calculation in the man's eyes, "I ask again, who are you?" he repeated.

"I am Edmund Mortimer, the 5th Earl of March" he responded, looking at Joe like he was dirt beneath his feet, "I am your servant, sir, and also I am the distant cousin of this dear lady" he indicated Dana.

"Okay I know who you are, but what do you want?" Joe asked, knowing all to well from the look of avarice on the man's face what he wanted.

"I don't want anything" Edmund told him, "I was just acquainting myself with my cousin here."

"Well you have done that now" Joe rudely said, "you can go now. I don't want my wife worried by anything; she is due to give birth any day."

"As I see" Edmund hissed.

"That was a bit rude" Dana commented as he hurried her back into the house, grapping the revealing quilt on the way.

When they were in the house, Joe turned to her, "what was all that about?"

------------------------

Edmund paced his luxurious bedroom, he had no eye for the beauty it held, or how lucky he already was. All he could think about was the woman who would bring the crown of England to his head.

"I will have to get rid of the man" he mused, "and that baby she is carrying too."

He continued to pace, and then he suddenly had an idea, "James" he shouted, opening the door and bellowing into the narrow pathway, "James, where are you?"

'James' the servant hurried to his master's side, in truth he was one of many James, his real name being Matthew but Edmund Mortimer called all his male servants that name caring nothing about them, only thinking of his own care and comfort.

"James" the irritated voice of the master shouted again.

"M'lord?" Matthew greeting him as he walked through the door.

"Send the boy to find Jack Abattage; I hear he has been seen in an inn not far from here."

Matthew's eyes felt like they would pop out of his head, Jack Abattage was a murderer, and a hired one at that. "What can the master want with him?" he wondered.

"James, don't tell anyone and make sure the boy doesn't talk either."

Matthew gulped and nodded his head, "I won't tell a soul sir" he mumbled.

Just as he was about to leave the room, Edmund called him back, "bring me a bottle of Malmsey wine" he ordered, "I am in the mood for celebrating."

--------------------------

Joe had heard enough, putting his hand up, he told Dana to stop.

"I'm sorry I never told you" she apologised limply.

"This is one secret I would have rather never found out. Surely you must have realised how dangerous it would be to hang that quilt outside?"

Dana shook her head, "I didn't think, too caught up in having this baby I suppose. But everything will be okay, I liked Edmund, I think he was nice."

Joe put his arm around his naïve wife, "I think that he is probably far from that. We will have to flee."

Horror filled her eyes, "it isn't that serious is it?"

"I don't know" his blue eyes bored into hers, "but we can't take any chances."

She looked down at her bloated stomach, "but I am due any day" she reminded him.

"Then we had better hope that our child is patient. Pack what you need, and be ready to leave within the hour."

------------------

Tears prickled Dana's eyes, as she looked at the cradle that they would leave behind. Joe had taken ages on it, and now their baby would never get to sleep in it. She wondered where they would go, and how they would live. She hoped that the child wouldn't arrive on the way."

"Are you ready?" Joe had quietly entered the room.

Dana wiped the tears away, and glumly looked at her husband, "where are we going?" she asked.

Joe shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, but I think we should leave England. He is sure to follow you; you are his ticket to the throne of England."

------------------------

Jack Abattage stood in an elegantly decorated room, waiting for the Earl to join him. He eyed a small silver vase on a table, and decided he liked it so much he would have it. "That will make me a pretty penny" he muttered as he slipped it into his pocket moments before the door to the room opened.

"You must be Jack" Edmund, the Earl, greeted him.

"I am, what do you want?" he responded, arrogance mixed together with interest.

"I have a job for you. I have a plan, and there is a man in my way, I want him removed."

"You want him dead?"

Edmund winced at the blunt statement, but nodded his head, "he has a wife, leave her be, I don't want her hurt, though she is pregnant, and I don't want the brat to survive."

"I don't do babies" Jack told him, "but when the man is dead, you can take his wife, and make sure that the baby she delivers is dead. So many babies die in childbirth, no one would be at all suspicious."

"Excellent, but what if the child lives?"

Jack shook his head at how stupid the Earl was, "hire an unscrupulous midwife, one who won't mind doing the job for you."

-----------------------

They didn't tell anyone they were going, once it was dark Joe helped Dana to climb into the seat of their cart. He placed their belongings in the back, and jumped up next to her. Then he picked up the reigns and urged the horse to a walk.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her, noting that she looked very pale under the starlight sky.

"I am fine" she answered, feeling weariness roll over her.

"You look tired" he commented, "shall I stop the cart so you can get in the back and get some sleep?"

"We have only just started?"

Joe sighed, "it will only take a minute to get you settled in the back, and you can lie on the hay, and cover yourself with some to keep warm."

Dana nodded, and moments later she was buried in the hay, rocked to sleep by the motion of the cart.

--------------------

Jack galloped down the lane, it was his favourite time of day, night, and that was all the cover he needed for his task ahead. Tooled up with a sword and a couple of daggers, along with a rough wooden club, he knew that he would have no trouble dispatching the man to the afterlife.

He wasn't far off from the house where his target lived, and was thankful to see the area was pretty quiet, just a farmer riding past in his cart, straw in the back.

He could see the house now, dark with no flickering candles. He assumed that the couple had gone to bed, so he jumped of his horse and after tethering it to a fence, he crept up to the front door.

"I am in luck" he thought as he tried to door and it opened. He walked into the kitchen, noting that the fire was out. It was too dark to see, but he could just make out a candle sat on a windowsill. Hurriedly he lit it and went deeper into the home. His foot kicked something, which made a loud noise, but still there was no sound, no movement, no even the sound of the couple snoring or deep breathing in sleep.

"They have gone" he suddenly realised, his fear realised as he reached the empty bed. Angry that his prey had escaped him, he kicked out at the little cradle that stood next to the bed.

"Now the snooty Earl won't pay me" he frowned, "even if I could trick him to believe I had killed the man, he would still want the woman too. He threw the candle on the bed, enjoying the way it ignited the hay in the bed.

"Hay" he suddenly said, realising that the farmer he had seen might have been the fleeing man, the woman lying in the back.

He turned to run out, to follow them, but then realised that some of the bed had fallen onto a shoe, and it was ablaze. Thankful that he hadn't been wearing boots, he flung it off, and stamped the flames out with his other foot. Then he picked up the damaged shoe, and turned around to make his escape, and to follow the couple so he could carry out his mission.

The time it had taken him to put out the fire on his shoe was all the time that it had needed to spread. While he had been otherwise occupied, the fire had taken hold of the cot, and the straw on the floor. Right now the door was aflame, there was no window, and there was no way out.

Jack didn't have long to berate himself, he couldn't curse the Earl, for the smoke overcame him, knocking him out, killing him, and then he burned.

------------------

"James, has Jack Abattage arrived back yet?"

"No m'lord" Matthew replied respectfully, "but there was a fire in Colchester last night, and the gossip is he was seen nearby and was probably responsibly. It was a little house near the Rose & the Crown inn; a couple are reported to live there."

"The fool" Edmund shouted, kicking a small stool over, "are there any survivors? Did the woman survive?"

"I don't know sir." Matthew stood quietly and waited to be told he could go.

"What are you waiting for, go away" Edmund shouted at him, grabbing his riding whip and lashing out with it.

Matthew flinched away from the mad man, and hurried out of the room. He was use to his behaviour, and was just glad that this time he wasn't hurt.

Edmund grabbed the glass of wine he had been drinking, and gulped the rest down to calm his nerves, then he threw smashed it against the wall, and wiped his mouth, "if you want a job doing, do it yourself" he sneered, taking his sword of the wall.

------------------------

She was giving birth, surrounded in an enclosed airless room; she moaned with pain but was told to be quiet.

"But it hurts" she told them, but they laughed at her, not interested, like vultures waiting for prey.

Finally a baby girl was born into the world, but snatched up immediately by one of the attendants, "please" she said, raising a limp arm wanting to see the baby.

The woman shook her head, her face was hard, but she saw in her eye a small tear trickle.

"Don't let them hurt her" she asked.

The woman stared at her, for a moment she saw the slightest of nods, and then she was gone, with the babe in her arms.

She would never know what became of her. On her lips was the name that they had chosen for the child, she shouted it out in desperation.

------------------

Dana woke up in a cold sweat; she was still in the back of the cart as it trundled down the bath. With fear she clutched her swollen stomach and was gratified to feel the baby kick her.

"It was just a dream" she said to herself, but then she remembered the name that the woman had called. It was her own.

-----------------

Dana told her husband all about her dream, she now realised a bit more what life would be like if she had trusted the Earl. She would have been an object, to be used and thrown away.

By the time they reached their destination, the port of Felixstowe, news had already arrived of the death of the notorious outlaw Jack Abattage perishing in a house fire in Colchester. What they didn't realise was that it was there house, and he had been hired to kill Joe.

They had booked beds aboard a boat that would be travelling through the English Channel and around to Spain. That would be where they would start their new lives, but the boat wasn't sailing for two days so they would have to wait, and hope that trouble wouldn't come looking for them.

----------------------

Edmund smiled when he finally managed to find a trace of them, of r the last two days he had searched far and near for sightings of them, but until now had found none.

He stared at the boat they were hoping to be travelling in later that day; he would make sure that they never left.

He started to laugh, turning his back on the boat; he walked the short distance to the inn they were staying in. He walked in, and order himself a cup of mead, and sat down, and waited for the opportunity to slip unseen upstairs.

-----------------

Dana woke up, and stretched in the double bed, the sheets were scratchy against her legs, but she felt warm, and drowsy. She snuggled against her husband, and started to go back to sleep but then she heard banging on the bedroom door.

"Joe" she shook him awake, "there is someone at the door."

She trembled as he got out of bed, "who is it?" he shouted through the door.

"Get out" a voice hissed, "you are not safe. Get out of the inn as fast as you can."

"Who are you?" he asked, opening the door, he found there was no one there.

"We have to go" he said as he turned around.

-----------------

The man jumped on his donkey, and looked towards the inn. He had managed to slip in and out without being seen, for which he was thankful, he just hoped that the risk would be worth it, and they got away.

"Call me James would you" he sniggered as he rode away.

------------------

Edmund sauntered up the stairs; all the doors were open except for the last one at the end of that corridor. "trapped like a rat in a trap" he sneer, and he kicked the door open.

The room was empty, angry at being thwarted yet again.

"Oy what are you doing in here?" a voice yelled. The inn keeper was stood in the doorway, "get out of my inn, and don't let me ever catch you here again."

Edmund rudely pushed past the man, and ran down the stairs, throwing open the back door, he ran out and scanned the area. There were plenty of people around, but none of them were the couple he was searching for.

----------------

They shivered as they hid behind a coal bunker, waiting for Edmund to move. They didn't dare move, or make any noise or he and his sword would find them. Finally he moved away from the inn, and after getting his horse he rode away towards the docks.

"He is heading for the boat" Joe groaned, "we won't be able to get past him.

"He is not going to win" Dana told him, now convinced that the Earl did mean them harm. "We are going to get on that boat; we just have to get past him."

"It is alright for you, he won't kill you."

"No, goodness knows what his plans are for me, though I very much doubt he would be willing to let our child live. No I have just as much as you to lose, but he isn't going to make me stay in this country with the threat of him hanging over me. I am going to go to Spain, are you coming?"

Joe grinned at his feisty wife, he took her outstretched hand, and kissed it, "yeah, I would go anywhere with you."

---------------

Edmund stood at the dock side, his hand in his pocket gripping a sharp dagger. His eyes furtively looked around for the first site of his prey, and he didn't have long to wait.

They walked down the street, hand in hand, like they didn't have a care in the world. When they saw him, they faltered for a moment, but then ignored him, and continued coming closer. When he thought they were within his grasp, the man shouted out to a sailor, who came over to them, and started chatting to them.

"That clever devil is using that man as a shield" he muttered, feeling almost respectful, he started to walk behind them, waiting for an opportunity.

Suddenly Dana turned around, and stared at him, confronted him. "If you don't go away, I will scream. How will it look for the Earl of March to be found here, following a couple like a lap dog? Leave us alone, I don't want you and I don't want the throne."

"I don't care what you want; I am the rightful King of England."

"Well I don't care what you want, even if you revealed who I was, even if by some miracle I was allowed to live, do you really think I would let you use me? I would be the monarch not you. I would never marry you, so just go away."

By now she had marched right up to him, and was shouting in his face. When she had said her piece, she pulled back her arm, and punched him full in the face, making him fall to the ground, knocking him unconscious.

"When he came around again, they were gone, and so was the boat. Edmund went to his favourite inn to lick his wounds and plan his revenge.

-----------------------

Safely ensconced on the boat, Dana felt that she could finally relax. The lack of stress worked a wonder on her body, which had decided that it was safe to go into labour now. She was strolling down the deck with Joe looking out to sea when she felt the first twinge.

She put her head against the coolness of the metal rail dragging the sea air into her lungs as her body ripped with pain.

"Are you alright Dana?" Joe asked with worry.

"It is the baby" she told him through gritted teeth, "it is on its way."

"What!" he exclaimed, "already, can't you wait a couple of weeks?"

"No!" she groaned as another strong contraction convulsed her womb, "it doesn't work like that."

"I will get you some help" he said starting to run off.

"Joe" she screamed, "don't leave me here; I could fall over the rail. Get me back to my bed and then go for help."

Joe nodded, and helped her walk, taking most of her weight, and stopping whenever the pain grew too much.

"Isn't this pain coming a bit fast?" he asked, strain showing on his face.

"You are telling me!" she moaned, nearly swearing at him.

Finally he managed to get her back to the communal cabin, people leered at them.

"Is she drunk?" a man laughed.

Joe shook his head, angry at the man's question, he turned to him, "she is in labour if you must know" he told him.

"Well in that case I am going up on deck; I would rather sleep up there tonight than listen to her scream." He looked around at all the other stirring men and women, "and I recommend all you men join me. Let the woman look after her."

Joe looked around at Dana, already a couple of woman were sat next to her, and a few more were pulling mattresses on the bunk beds making a larger bed area in the middle of the room.

"Go with the men" one of them told him, "this isn't the place for a man at the moment; we will come and get you when the baby has arrived."

"No" he tried to refuse, but the men were already pushing out the door.

"Go with them" Dana smiled at him, even though her face showed how much pain she was in, "I will be okay, the women will look after me."

"Will you?" he looked at an older woman; she seemed to be in control of the situation, organising the rest of the women.

"We will do what we can, giving birth is dangerous."

He nodded, that was all he could ask for and he already knew that if his beloved died it would be his fault as he had got her that way. He just hoped that all the stress of the last few days didn't add to the danger.

He took one more look at her flushed face, dragging himself away from the men, he went over to her, and kissed her. "If you want me then get one of the women to come and get me" he told her, "and Dana, I love you."

"I love you too" she said weakly, and then her face grimaced as the pain came again.

----------------------

Up on deck, Joe paced. Every so often he tried sitting down, but found that he couldn't keep still, he was too agitated. Every so often, Dana's screams floated up to them, "she is in so much pain" he groaned, "what have I done to her?"

"Will you shut up" one of the men groaned, pulling a tarpaulin over his head.

"Leave the lad alone" another said, "just because you haven't ever had a woman to worry about."

That comment started a fight and Joe didn't have time to think about his wife as he was too busy trying to break it up.

That was until one of the women came out and started shouting at them. "Will you all be quiet" she yelled, "there is a poor little girl trying to push out her baby down stairs and all she can hear is the stamp of all your great feet."

"I'm sorry" Joe instantly apologised, "is she okay?"

"She is fine" the woman said to him in a softer voice, and then she turned back to the rest of the men, "I warn you, be quiet."

-----------------

Dana felt like the pain was never going to end. It felt like she had been in labour all her life. In between contractions, she rocked, humming to herself, as she tried to still her quaking stomach that was increasing feeling sick.

"Am I nearly there yet?" she asked wearily, drenched in sweat she tried to push her limp hair of her face.

"You have got some way to go yet love" an old woman told her kindly.

"How is your pain?" the elder woman queried, "I can make you another tea if you would like one. It took the edge of the pain before didn't it?"

Glumly she nodded her head, as another pain ripped through her.

The woman quickly took the kettle of the cooking stove, and poured hot water into a bowl with crushed willow bark already in it. She let it all steep, and then added some cold water and took it to Dana to drink.

Dana gulped down the bitter concoctions quickly, it tasted horrible but she knew that within the space of ten minutes the pains would ease.

The woman stood over her, and after seeing her eyelids droop a little was satisfied that the tea had worked. "Try to get some more sleep dear" she whispered, "because when you are fully open you will need every ounce of energy."

-------------------

Joe counted the stars in the sky, he couldn't sleep, and the sounds of the snoring men around him didn't help. He sat up, as he heard a boom in the distance, straining his eyes, he looked out over the sea. A boat was sailing towards them, and it was flying the jolly roger.

He grabbed the tarpaulin of the nearest man, and shook him.

"Geroff" the man moaned, his hand searching for the cover that until a moment before had laid over him.

"Wake up" he told him, "there is a ship, coming this way, and I think it is pirates."

Instantly the man was awake and running to the captain's cabin. Within the space of a couple of minutes the deck of the boat was lined with men, each holding whatever weapon they could find.

-------------------------

Dana was rudely awakened by the feel of the ship bumping into something, "what is going on?" she asked.

"Hush" the elder woman tried to calm her, "don't worry about what is happening up there, you need to concentrate on birthing this baby. I am going to examine you now to see if you are fully ready."

Dana opened her legs, and felt the woman's fingers prod her; she winced as a contraction ripped through her as the woman was still doing her examination.

"You are fully dilated" the woman said wiping her fingers on a piece of material. "When you get the next contraction, I want you to push."

Dana nodded, and closed her eyes; sure enough the pain came quickly but this time she worked with it, pushing at the pain with all her might.

"Don't forget to breathe" the woman reminded her.

Dana took a deep breath and started to push again, this continued for the next half hour all the while the noise of fighting coming down from the deck above.

-------------------

Joe swished his sword at the big pirate in front of him, he was an ugly brute, and hair grew from every orifice and other places as well. The only place he didn't have hair was on the top of his head that was as bald as a new born baby's. the skull and crossbones had been tattooed where his hair should be, continuing over his face, giving him a look of something out of tale of horror that the travelling minstrels would sing. He wore a large hoop in his nose, which was encrusted with what had once been the content of his nose. He only had one ear, the other one looked like it had been chewed off.

"Hello little boy" he sneered as he pushed Joe back, the pirate's breath nearly making him collapse.

Joe continued to fight bravely, the man he fought was a monster, but he was also stupid, and slow. Joe stabbed his sword forward right into the flabby stomach of the man. When he pulled it out again, the pirate's rancid guts followed, spilling out onto the deck.

"I will get you for this" the man promised, desperately trying to push it back in but it was too late. His face went pale and then white as his guts seeped blood and gore out onto the deck. And then he fell in it, dying in his own mess.

-------------------------

Dana gave one last push, feeling the baby's head come out; she started to pant as her midwives unwound the cord from its neck.

It was at this delicate and extremely embarrassing moment, not to mention painful that the door opened and a knife wielding man ran into the cabin.

Quickly he took in what was happening and grinned, "big busy are you love?" he said marching over to her.

"Go away" one of her midwives shouted.

The pirate instantly lashed out with his hand, hitting her across her jaw, "shut up" he shouted, and laughed as he saw an angry welt appear.

Then he looked at Dana, "it is a shame that we have to give you up" eh mused, looking at her bare legs, and everything else. "we have been paid to find you and deliver you back to England. Got a client waiting for you, though once that baby is born, I suppose he wouldn't mind if we had a bit of fun with you first. We will throw the brat in the sea."

"No" Dana sobbed, struggling to get up.

"Leave her alone" the elder woman stepped in front of the man, a knife in her hand, "you are not going to hurt either the mother or the child." And with that she plunged the weapon into his chest, right into his beating heart, that suddenly stopped.

As he fell onto the floor, another man rushed into the cabin, the elder woman pulled out her knife and held it up at the man.

"It is me" the man said, "I am Joe, her husband, the father of the baby she is birthing" he winced when he saw where the baby was. "are you alright?" he asked her.

Dana nodded, "what is going up there?" she asked, wincing as another contraction started.

"Pirates" he answered breathlessly, "I saw one heading here, and came after him. Where is he?"

"He is right here" the elder woman told him, as she dragged the dead body out of the cabin.

"Joe" Dana screamed as she pushed again.

Joe just managed to get over to her, just in time to catch the newborn baby in his arms. He looked at Dana with shock.

She panted with tiredness for a few moments, and then asked "what is it?"

Joe looked between the baby's legs, "it is a boy Dana, we have a son."

Dana collapsed back on her makeshift bed with exhaustion and happiness, "a son" she sighed, "I am a mother."

----------------

The pirates were dead, the danger gone and Dana sat up in a bed, pillows behind her, with her newborn held to her breast. She watched as the child suckled, stroking the fluff on his head.

The baby turned his head towards her, looking at her with its bright blue eyes, but she knew that he couldn't see her, not yet.

"He is wonderful" Joe said in wonder. "He looks just like you."

Dana started to laugh, "how can you tell?" she asked, "he just looks like any newborn to me."

"Not for long" one of her midwives who was still looking after her said, "soon if he was in a room with a hundred babies and cried, you would know it was him."

Dana shook her head, and smiled, she couldn't believe that was true.

"You wait and see" the woman said wisely.

"Joe, the pirate" her jaw shook with fright as she continued, "he said that they had been sent to get me, that they had a client."

"The Earl."

"He is never going to stop is he?"

"Hush, don't worry about it. He doesn't know exactly where we are going; maybe he will just give up now."

"I hope so."

"So do I" Joe thought to himself.

-------------------------

The Earl stood on the dockside, his eyes straining for the little boat that would come his way. He had been there for some time, and was starting to feel extremely annoyed at how they kept him waiting, especially as it had started to rain some time before, and he was now soaked, droplets of rain falling of his large nose.

"But at least I will have her" he thought, pushing his dripping hair of his face, "and the throne of England."

Finally he saw the boat in the distance, but it was going far too slow, as if only one man was rowing it.

And he saw as it came closer that this was the truth.

"Is she lying in the bottom of the boat" he wondered, "they better not have hurt her." But he could now see that there was no one in the boat, except the one man, and he looked worse for wear.

"What happened?" the Earl demanded, taking no notice on how blood seeped out of a dirty bandage on the man's head.

"Everyone else is dead" the man gasped, weak from his injury and rowing a large boat on his own.

"You failed me" the Earl seethed, "you won't again" he told him, and with a wicked look in his eyes, he took his sword and cut of the man's head.

Then he took himself of to a little inn to drown his sorrows for he had no idea where they were going, so he knew that his chance of getting the crown through Dana was gone.

It was while he sat there, in his cups that he received notice to attend court as the King wanted to see him. But even though he trembled when he met his majesty, worried he had been found out, he was appointed the lieutenant of Ireland, a role he would perform until his dying day which came sooner than later in 1425 when he died of the plague.

-------------------------

Dana stood at the boat's bow, enjoying the moments of peace. The baby she had born less than a week ago was soundly asleep, and she had left Joe to look after him, while she escaped for a while.

They had travelled quite a long way now, but still they hadn't arrived at their destination, she had never realised the world was so large. She didn't mind the long journey though, the sea air felt wondrous as it blew against her skin, the sun was warm on her hair, and her eyes beheld the beauty of the sea.

Little white waves were caused by the boat gliding effortlessly through the water, like a knife through butter it sailed along.

The sea glittered, seeming to call her to it, but she ignored her desire to dive into its coolness, knowing it would be the death of her.

"It is so beautiful" she murmured to herself, "if only I could stay here forever."

"But you can't" a voice interrupted her reverie, "you have a baby who needs you, and you have your lessons."

Dana shook her foolish thoughts away, and turned and greeted the woman who had helped her birth her child into the world and was now teaching her the skills of a midwife. "Is it time already?" she grinned.

-------------------

Sat on her bunk, a sleeping child next to her, Dana listened to the wise words of the woman.

"I have told you how you can prepare a woman for labour" the woman said, "but as you know giving birth can be a painful experience. One of the midwife's best friends is the bark from the willow tree. Without it many women would probably not survive the ordeal of birth, they would faint from the pain, or drop dead when their heart gave out in protest."

Dana nodded, absorbing all of the woman's words, "how do you prepare this bark?" she asked.

"Arhhh!" the woman laughed, "if you are asking something like that, then you are already a midwife, at least in heart if not in knowledge and ability as yet. The inquisitive mind is a wonderful thing young woman, always ask questions, don't just do something because you are told to, strive to understand."

Dana blushed, happy to have received such praise, "well how do you prepare it?"

And the old woman happily told her.

-------------------

"You are like a sponge" declared the old woman, shaking her head about how much Dana had learned in such a short time. "Was your mother a healer, or someone in your family?"

Dana shook her head, "my mother was a simple farmer's wife" she told her, neglecting to tell the woman that she had no idea what her true birth mother had been.

"You have a natural inclination towards healing" the woman continued, "like you come from a family of healers."

"I don't know" Dana said, "but I do know that I want to learn everything you know."

"You already do" the woman smiled, "I can teach you no more. All that I have learned in my long life and you have memorised it in a few short weeks, you are amazing."

Dana frowned, she liked that she was being complimented, but was unhappy to hear that the woman had no more to teach her.

"Don't be upset" the woman comforted her, "I know a few healers in Seville who I will introduce you to. They will teach you more." Gently the woman took a book of Dana, "now no more learning for now" she instructed, "you have a son to feed."

And sure enough her son was bawling his little heart out.

--------------------

Dana clutched the edge of the table that was secured to the floor. She held the babe tightly to her chest, wrapped in her clothes so he would fall. Outside, the wind ripped through the sails, throwing the boat about in the waves.

It felt like any moment the boat would overturn, and all their lives would be lost.

The child started to wail, frightened by how agitated his mother was.

"Sit down" the old woman advised, "you are just upsetting the boy."

Dana nodded, and tried to sit on the chair, but it was difficult, for it was like sitting on a jelly.

She wondered what had happened to the calm sea and the blue sky of the morning. She didn't understand how the weather could change so quickly and violently.

It didn't help that Joe was on deck, trying to assist the sailors in saving the cargo. She wanted him with her, safe and secure, well as much as anyone could be in the middle of a storm.

"Will this never end?" she cried, hardly hearing her voice over the sounds outside.

One of the men ran through the door, a gust of air, and sea spray following him.

"Have you seen my husband?" she asked, but he ignored her.

Dana noted that the man was drenched; his hair was strewn around his face, which was pale. He looked exhausted. She quickly got up, and went to the barrel holding the ship's precious grog supply. She glanced at the old healer, who nodded, and then ladled a cupful out.

"Here drink" she told the man, thrusting the cup under his nose, "it will warm you up."

The man started to shake his head, "we have set times when we are allowed to drink it, and I wouldn't dare."

"I will talk to the captain" she said gently, laying her hand on his arm, "he will understand that at a time like this those rules don't always apply. You are cold, this will warm you up."

Warily, he took the cup, and swallowed the contents in one gulp, and then he hurried out again.

"That will help him to cope with the next hours up on deck" the old healer said wisely.

Dana nodded, "and if others come in, I will make them drink a cup too."

-----------------

The next couple of hours were like hell on earth, or water as was the case. By the time the storm was over, or they had sailed through it, her ears were aching, and her head was splitting.

But when she saw the bedraggled men coming into the cabin, she pushed away how she felt and rushed to help them, all the while keeping an eye out for her precious husband.

"He will be here" the old healer comforted her, "the captain isn't here yet."

Dana nodded but she couldn't help but be worried, "what if he has been swept overboard" she sobbed, receiving a look of reproach from the woman for her foolishness.

Because it was silly, within moments he was safely in her arms. "I know the path we must follow when we get to Spain" he told her, "I can't tell you now, but once we are on land and safe, then I will let you know everything."

--------------------

The rest of the time spent on their voyage was peaceful; there were no more storms, or pirates. Finally they reached their destination, the port of Punta Umbria, Spain. Joe quickly found them lodgings, but still wouldn't tell her his plan, not until he took her on a picnic on a particularly sunny day.

"You said you would tell me what we are to do" she reminded him.

"As I did" he conceded. He hurriedly looked around but seeing no one around felt it was safe enough. "I saved the captain's life, that was why I came in later than the other men, he asked me into his cabin for a drink."

Dana nodded, she had already heard of his heroism, how he had risked his own life to throw a line to the captain after he had been washed overboard.

"We started chatting, and he told me he was worried about an old friend of his, one he had grown up with. The man is a Jew and lives in Cordoba, where a part of the city has been set aside, and all the Jews forcefully moved there."

"Forcefully?" Dana asked in a quiet voice.

Grimly he nodded his head, "it is called the Juderia, but it is little more than a prison. The people within are poverty stricken, and the laws stop them from pulling themselves out of it. Their healers are not allowed to practise, even if they are trained doctors. They are not allowed to sell any food or engage in any handicrafts or trade of any king. They can not take public office or act as money brokers. The richer ones are only allowed to hire servants who are not Christians; they are also not allowed to be hired to be farm hands, lamplighters, grave diggers. They are not allowed to eat with a Christian, or drink. Nor can they hold intimate conversation with them, visit or give them presents."

"Surely someone must be able to help them?"

he shook his head, "the law has made that very difficult, Christian woman, married or unmarried are forbidden to enter the Juderia at any time of day or night so they can't help them."

"So only men can help them?"

"Possibly" he agreed, at least maybe face to face, but I am sure there would be lots you could still do."

She was quiet for a moment, and then said, "you want to go and help them don't you?"

He nodded his head, "I think that is what God wants me to do, I can feel it burning here" he touched his heart, "what do you think? Will you come?"

"I will go wherever you lead" she gently smiled.

-------------------------

Before they left for Cordoba they had one important thing to do. The child, born on a boat at sea, needed a name and the protection of the Church. So the day before they were due to leave, they went to a nearby chapel to present him to the priest.

The large wooden door was slightly ajar, like they were expected. Joe pushed it creakingly open. Through the myriad of candle flames they saw the holy man knelt at the altar. He arose and turned around as they approached.

"My children, how can I help you?" he said, holding his arms wide.

Joe quickly told him why they were there, "we want him baptised" he finished.

The priest smiled, "it would be my honour, what will be his name?"

"We can't decide" Dana told him, "we have thought and thought about it, but no name seemed right."

"I prayed about it, and in the end I felt that God was telling us that we should present him to you, and his name would become evident to you."

"So it is in God's hands" the priest held his arms out for the child, and immediately started to prophecy. "This boy will be known as John, like his predecessor he will work with the people calling them to Christ, but unlike the Baptist, he will do this in secret, no one will know where he has come from, or where he is going. He will work for God until his dying day, never receiving anything for himself. He will build up his treasures in Heaven, where he will get all the reward he will ever want, the blessing of the Lord saying welcome good and faithful servant."

Dana glowed with pleasure at what the priest was saying.

"This child will be an ambassador of God" he continued, "it would be my honour, no my privilege to baptise him." And that he carried him carefully over to a small column. "Let us pray."

Dana closed her eyes and started to recite the words she knew so well, "Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy Will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. When in temptation, Thy Love sustains us, and deliver us from evil. For Thine is the Kingdom, the Power and the Glory. For ever and ever. Amen."

"Our God and Father" the priest intoned, "we turn to Thee with thankful hearts for these Thy children and their child. They, expressing their nearness to Thee in this trinity of love, bring the miracle sent from Thee; to be dedicated in loving homage to the One Who gave it. Help them, O Father, that they may be wise and patient and understanding in the unformness of the infant mind, and the care of the growing body. Give them courage in times of difficulty, and self-denial in bringing up their child; and so bless them, drawing them very close to Thyself, that they may give of their best and ever dwell in love under Thy protection. Amen. O Saviour Christ, we humbly ask Thee to enfold in Thy protection this little one. Surround him with Thy radiance, shower upon him Thy spiritual strength and be very near to him; so that he may hear Thy voice and follow Thy call. Open his eyes to the beauty of Spirit, and help him as he grows to see that beauty in all Thy Creation. We pray Thee to inspire his spiritual helpers so that they may hold his safety and his well-being in truth and under Thy guidance. O Thou Who was a little child, knowing a child's sorrows and joys, be Thou his Companion in play, in sleep, in wakefulness, and in all his growing days; and be his Friend most dear, to understand, to console, and to bless. Amen."

He scooped his hand into the bowl on top of the column, and sprinkled water over the child's head. "I baptise you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit"

John woke up with shock as the droplets of cold water hit his tiny head, his limbs flung out, and he started to cry, but then instead looked up in wonder at the blue eyes of the holy man who was holding him.

"See, he is destined for the work of the Lord" the priest smiled as he saw the small child stick his thumb in his mouth, "he recognised me as part of the Kingdom of God, and therefore not a threat."

Tears were now in Dana's eyes, "thank you" she shook the holy man's hand.

They were just about to leave, when the priest called out after them, "be careful in Cordoba."

They looked at him with amazement, "how?"

"How do I know where you are headed, and to what? God told me, and he wants you to know that He is with you, and will protect you all while you do His will."

And with that they went on their way.

--------------------

They quickly found work when they arrived in Cordoba. Joe started farming again, and Dana worked alongside a local healer. She soon found out that this healer had learnt all she knew from a Jew, who secretly still worked by her side. Dana quickly grew great respect for both these women, and helped them as much as she could.

One day when she was preparing for the sick that came every day, the Jewish healer Martha came running in.

"My daughter is ill" she shouted, "I need medicine."

"Martha won't you get into trouble if you treat her yourself" Dana reminded her.

She nodded her head, "maybe, but I don't care. I love my girl, I want her to live."

Dana thought about how much she loved her son, and made a decision. "I will help you."

Martha gasped, "no I can't ask that of you, Christian women are not allowed in the Juderia."

"The authorities will punish me less than you, I have to do this."

It was still early, and they were in luck. The guards on the Juderia had just changed, and the new ones were busy preparing for their day. The two women were able to slip in.

Dana followed Martha to her house, entering within she recognised a basket on the table as one of her own. It was filled with bread, "is my husband here?" she asked, knowing that each day he brought supplies for the Jews.

"You mean Joe?" Martha smiled, "that is a good man you have there, he has been a blessing to our people, as you have too. I bless Jehovah for sending you both to us."

They entered the room where Martha's young daughter, lay stricken. Joe sat in vigil by her bedside.

"Dana, what are you doing here?" he rose to greet her.

"The same as you I would say" she responded, "i am here to help this child, and this family."

He nodded, and told her what the symptoms of the little girl were. She has nausea, a fever, diarrhoea and abdominal cramps."

"Sounds like food poisoning to me" Dana commented, "has she eaten anything you and your family hasn't?"

Martha nodded her head, and then helped her daughter to sit up, and gave her a drink. "She had a chicken pie at the fair last night."

Dana opened her rabbit skin bag, and pulled out some small vials of medicine. She sat the child up and got her to drink them.

Within a few hours, the child was feeling better, "thank you" Martha smiled, "she is my only daughter, I would do anything for her. I know that soon you will know how I feel when you have the girl you carry within your womb."

---------------------

Shocked into silence, Dana doesn't know what to say,

But Martha is right, for soon she becomes a mother again,

And one day they will find the troubles in Cordoba are over,

And move to France where their children will work for God.

And there we will meet our next descendant of the healer.


	14. Dalia, 1572AD

If you read this and enjoy it, then please review.

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Dalia~1572AD

10th June

"Have you heard about Jeanne III of Navarre?" one of the maids was gossiping, "within a day of arriving in Paris to buy clothes for the wedding, she fell ill and is now dead. She was only forty two, I have heard that the Queen was involved."

"Hush" Dalia warned, "have you no sense girl? You are in the Queen's home, just a servant here. Do you not know that these walls have ears? Talking like that you could be tried for treason, and executed."

The maid clutched her throat, and went white, "I didn't think of that" she squealed with fright.

"Just be careful" Dalia whispered, "now help me put this tray of partridges in the oven. It is too heavy for me."

"You should sit down cook, rest your legs. That baby cannot be far from arriving."

"Three more months yet, though I feel I could burst already. And I can't rest, I am not some sort of lady, I have to continue my work even though my body protests.

"What does your husband say about that?"

Dalia sighed, "he wants me to rest, but he is a servant too, and knows that it isn't going to happen. The Queen has been good to me though, she has told me that I will be put on light duties in August, and won't have to work for a week once the child is here. Now come on we have a feast to prepare."

---------------------

10th July

Dalia sat by the hot fire that fed the oven, it was a scorching day, and being so heavily pregnant didn't help. All the other servants were about their duties, getting the castle ready for the great wedding.

"Her husband rushed in, "have you heard?" he asked.

"Heard what Stephan?" feeling exasperated, she wasn't in the mood for silliness at the moment, she was too sleepy.

"Prince Henry of Navarre is a Huguenot."

"Oh no" she stood up, "but the Queen is a catholic, why would she allow her daughter to marry a protestant?"

"Hey there is nothing wrong with the Huguenots" he protested.

"I know husband" she soothed, "I wouldn't have married you if I thought there was, but that isn't what I meant. Why would a strict catholic as we all know that Catherine de' Medici is go against all that she believes and allow such a marriage? She has never seemed to be the sort that agrees to disagree, like we do. I just think that even with the Prince following protestant ways, you should still be careful. I worry for you as it is, you shouldn't let his acceptance sway you to revealing your true religious convictions."

"Fear not Dalia" he kissed her flushed faced, "you just worry about that child in your belly. Everything will turn out fine just you wait and see. This wedding will mean a new beginning for both Huguenots and Catholics."

"I don't know" she shook her head, "I just have a bad feeling."

-----------------------

20th July

It was early; Dalia sat beside a window enjoying the breeze that blew over her tepid skin. The sun had only just risen and she was feeling contemplative after seeing the wondrous beauty of creation.

The room she was in was high up in the castle so first of all she didn't hear the shouts down in the garden. But when a scream filled the air, one filled with fear and pain, she quickly grabbed her bag, and ran out of the room.

Down the stairs she ran; or the while worrying that it had been her dear husband that had uttered the horrible sound. As her foot hit the bottom step her senses were accosted by the sight of Stephan lying bloodied on the door, a knife dropped on the floor beside him.

"Oh my dear husband" she cried, hurrying over to him, and dropping to her knees. "What happened?" she asked him looking into his usually bright eyes.

He turned his head away, "I am sorry dear heart, but I have been meeting with other Huguenots. This morning we held a secret meeting, and then walking back I was attacked by two men. They stabbed me" his voice trembled. Then he turned anxious eyes towards her, "am I going to die?"

Dalia quickly ripped his blood stained shirt open, to reveal a small wound in his chest. "You were lucky" she muttered, "the knife didn't go in too far." She opened her bag, and pulled out some clean cloth, "hold this too it" she told him, "and then I will get you to the kitchen where I will clean and bind it."

---------------

17th August

"Dalia, the Queen wants you to attend the princess."

Dalia sighed, it has been a hard day filled with preparing food for the wedding feast tomorrow, all she wanted was to fall into her bed but instead she was to go to the bride to be."

"Now" the servant order, far higher position that her, "she needs something to calm her, she is so anxious about tomorrow."

She nodded, and quickly grabbed her bag and hurried after the man.

The princess was sat up in bed, surrounded by her ladies; she still looked alone in her fear. Dalia's heart went out to the girl.

"What is this?" the girl asked, "my nightmare come to harass me. I don't want a pregnant woman to attend me for I fear that state."

"There is nothing to fear about pregnancy milady" she soothed, "and you know me, it is Dalia, I have treated you before."

"Oh Dalia, I am so scared about tomorrow, he is a Huguenot, surely he will be evil. After all he is a heretic. Oh why has my mother allowed this marriage?" she started to sob.

Dalia walked over to her, and felt her head, "you are going to worry yourself to sickness" she warned her, "I will give you something to calm you, and if it helps your husband to be might not be a catholic, but I have heard that he is a good man."

She looked through her bag of herbs, pulling out two small packages, passing one to her lady in waiting with instructions on how to make a calming chamomile tea; she gave the other one to the lady herself. "it is lavender, put it in your pillow and it will help you to sleep."

"Thank you" the Queen's daughter said, tears in her eyes, "you have been most kind to me."

Dalia nodded, "I hope you feel better tomorrow. And believe me it will be the best day of your life, I know I will always hold my wedding to my beloved Stephan dear to my heart."

-------------------------

18th August

"Arh, doesn't she look lovely in her dress?"

The sun shone brightly in Dalia's face, "who?" she asked, not really paying too much attention to her surroundings as she had been having tightening in her stomach recently.

"Who?" the girl next to her laughed, "why Marguerite de Valois of course."

Dalia peered through the crowd of servants gathered at the palace, seeing the lady mentioned she smiled at her beauty, "yeah she looks lovely" she agreed, "and that dress is a beauty."

Marguerite's overdress glistened in the sunshine, it was white silk covered with gold sparkling gems, her underskirt that showed in the slash of her skirt was gold and covered with coloured embroidered flowers. Her hair had been brushed over her shoulders, as befit a virgin bride; on her head she wore a coronet of twisted gem encrusted gold.

"She still looks scared" Dalia muttered to herself, noting how pale the young woman was.

She watched as the Queen's daughter ascended up a small step into the royal carriage that awaited her. It would take her through the streets of Paris to Notre-Dame Cathedral, where she would marry Henri de Bourbon, the Prince of Navarre.

Not that Dalia would see the ceremony; she would be too busy getting everything finished for the celebration afterwards.

------------------

22nd August

Dalia hurried through the streets, looking around her with fear. There had been some trouble in the city since the wedding, Catholics against Huguenots and vice versa but she had to restock her supplies of herbs, which was what found her outside.

Her cloak was wrapped around her, a basket in her arms. She was well known in the town; people were used to seeing her collecting plants to make cures, and usually as pregnant as she was there would have been people ready to protect her. But for now they were too scared.

Stephan had wanted to accompany her but she had managed to persuade him she would be safer on her own. He had recovered remarkable well from his injury, but she wanted to make sure that he wasn't attacked again.

A man staggered past her, something hidden under his doublet. She didn't really pay much attention to him, not until she heard a loud noise.

Instantly alert, she crouched to the ground, and looked around. The man was stood with a smoking musket in his hand, looking at another man who was on the ground. She saw panic in his face, and then he ran away.

Dalia ran to the downed man, "please don't be dead" she almost chanted under her breathe. She fell to her knees, and pulled the bag she always carried open. She had noticed that his hand was bleeding, and on the floor next to him was a severed finger.

"I am a healer" she told the shocked man, as she poured alcohol over his wound, and bound his hand. She noted that he was biting his lip to stop himself from screaming with the pain. "You are a brave man" she told him.

"My elbow" he stuttered.

Nodding her head, she quickly felt it, "its shattered" she told him. Dalia could see they were attracting a crowd, seeing a woman hovering near she shouted, "get me some wood."

The woman looked confused at her.

"I need to put a split on it" she told her and then looked back at her patient. "Drink this" she told him, giving him a small vial. "It is willow bark juice; it will help with the pain."

She helped him sit up so he could down the liquid, and then asked him about any other pain he had.

"Only my elbow and hand" he sighed, "I think I have been lucky."

She was about to answer him, but the woman returned with a smooth piece of wood, "my husband is putting shelves up in our shop" she told Dalia, "he said I could have that bit."

"Thank you" Dalia smiled, and then yet again looked at the man on the ground, "I am going to have to manipulate the bones in your elbow" she apologised, "it will hurt."

"I have had worse injuries than this" he replied simply.

That night she told Stephan all about the man.

"Dalia" he smiled, "that was Admiral Gaspard de Coligny, and to think my wife treated the military and political leader of the Huguenots."

------------------

23rd August

"The Queen wishes to see you before dinner is serve" one of the maids told her.

Dalia nodded her head, and threw of her apron, hurrying to the Queen's rooms.

"Your majesty" she awkwardly bowed.

"Arh Dalia" her look perused her, "you are very near your time. Just do one more week, and then you can rest until your child is a month old."

"Thank you your majesty."

She was just about to leave the room, when the door burst open and men rushed in.

"We demand justice" they shouted, "our brother Coligny was nearly murdered, and the perpetrators of the act are still free."

"You can't come in here like this" the Queen stood up, "I will deal with this situation as I see fit."

"You will deal with it as we tell you" one of the men yelled, "we Huguenots are sick of being persecuted, it is time you did something or we will."

By now the queen's guards had come in, as they dragged the men out of the room, one of them said, "you do a bad thing siding with our enemies. You need to think about your response before your name goes down as a wicked woman, a slaughtering of innocence."

The Queen's face had gone deathly pale, seeing Dalia looking at her, she shouted, "out of here, I want to be alone."

--------------

24th August

Dalia turned restlessly in her sleep; she distantly heard the matins bell ring but turned over in bed and snuggled up to Stephan.

So she didn't hear when it started, she didn't realise that the bells had been the sign that the Swiss Guard was waiting for.

But soon, even as high up as their bedroom was, the two of them started to hear that something was not right.

"I'm going to check it out" Stephan said, "stay here, I will be right back."

Dalia nodded her head, "but be quick."

With a smile at her, he was gone.

"Don't go outside" she shouted after him.

She got out of bed, and hurriedly put on her straining dress. Then she went over to the window and opened the window. Down in the garden, and surrounding lanes was a scene of butchery. Bodies lay strewn on the grass, across walls, half in river.

"Death to the Huguenots" a voice shouted from a throng of people surrounding a struggling man.

She had seen enough, not even bothering with her shoes, she ran out the door, and down the stairs.

"What is going on?" she yelled to a fellow servant.

"They are massacring the protestants" the maid sobbed, "men, women, even children, what a terrible world we live in when people would kill innocent children."

Compassion for the girl's distress filled Dalia's heart, but she pushed it aside, she had to find Stephan before he left the palace. "Stephan" she cried, stumbling on the last step in her anxiety to find him.

"I am here my love" came a bleak voice; it matched his deathly pale face.

"Stephan they are killing the Huguenots, you must stay here. I don't think those men would dare enter the royal residence."

He gently touched her cheek "I must make sure my mother is okay" he calmly stated, staring into her eyes with fervour.

She sighed, "Okay" she reluctantly agreed, "but wear a Catholic armband so they don't hurt you." She started to wrap hers around his arm.

He pulled her into a hug, "beloved, I can't wear that. It would be lying, I am not a Catholic, I am a Huguenot and I am proud of that."

She stared up into his face, "but what if being a Huguenot gets you killed?"

"Then I will follow my namesake, for like him I will be a Christian martyr" and he pulled on the band, giving it back to her. "God will protect me, and if he doesn't then it is his will."

"No!" she sobbed, falling at her feet, "please don't go, please" tears tumbled down her cheeks, "you will die, I know you will."

He pulled her to her feet, "can someone look after my wife?" he shouted, "she and what she carries it very precious to me."

"I will take her to Princess Marguerite's rooms" a servant promised, "I hear her husband is already holed up there, and she had promised to defend anyone who comes for her protection."

"Good" Stephan grimly stated, kissing Dalia on her cheek, he said "goodbye dear wife, until we meet again."

And as he disappeared through the doorway, pains of loss, and something else ripping through her, she was sure that this side of heaven she would never see him alive again.

---------------

She had only just been dragged into Marguerite de Valois' rooms, and the door bolted when someone started to bang on it with agitation.

"Who is it?" Marguerite called out.

"It is Henry de Guise, let me in."

Dalia saw the princess blush, and wondered why she didn't immediately open the door.

"Open the door" the man ordered, "we have a warrant from the Queen to execute any of the traitorous Huguenots, we need to search your rooms to make sure that you are not looking after any."

She ran to the door, "you think I have Huguenots in my room?" she almost shouted, "that I would shelter them, are you mad? No I am alone in here, but I will not open the door, for I fear for my life."

"You have nothing to fear" the man seemed to be trying to calm her.

"Well then leave me alone."

"No" he rattled the handle, "I say again, let me in."

"And I say I will not" she responded.

The stout door started to bang like they were trying to break it down, but it was too heavy.

"Try the windows" they heard Henry de Guise order.

But the shutters were closed on them; they were safe at least for now.

Or at least everyone else was, Dalia's stomach contracted painfully, it was time for her baby to arrive.

----------------------

25th August

"Breathe through the pain" Marguerite de Valois instructed, wiping Dalia's sweating face. Their roles were now reversed, she was no longer the healer, she was the healed.

She had been labouring for nearly a full day now, and like the sounds of terror they could hear through the shuttered windows, her labour wasn't showing many sights of ending.

Nearby they could hear the men still hammering on the door, now certain that the suite of rooms contained more than just a princess. They didn't listen when she said it was just her ladies with her, and some of the servants. They just kept trying to break down the door.

And now with each contraction, Dalia grew more weary, and with each scream from outside she became more frightened.

"What has this world come to?" she cried out, "that brother should kill brother, how can that be Christianity. Surely God does not want us to kill each other?"

"Hush" Marguerite smiled gently, "don't worry about it. I am sure that it will be over soon."

"My husband, my Stephan is out there, do you think he will be okay? He is a Huguenot."

"I am sure that he is safe" the princess tried to calm her, though as she turned away, she muttered under her breath, "I hope."

"Arhhh" Dalia suddenly screamed as another pain ripped through her, "when will this ordeal be over?"

Those watching were not sure if she meant the massacre that was happening outside, or her labour."

"She is fully open milady" the servant that had helped her to these rooms spoke, "she is ready to push."

Marguerite nodded her head, and with another woman's help, made Dalia sit up, "Now with the next contraction push" she ordered.

"How do you know so much about giving birth?" Dalia asked while she was waiting for the contraction.

"I just do" the princess answered, her face a picture of impassiveness.

-------------------

She held a wriggling bundle in her arms, a little girl wrapped tightly in a shawl.

"She is pretty" the princess said, a moment of pain passing her face.

For the moment, the joy of the labour finally being over, and the happiness of holding her daughter overshadowed her terror of what had happened to her husband, to the child's father. It didn't last long.

-------------------

27th August

The men outside the door had been using what sounded like an axe since early morning. With each hit, Dalia shuddered, and tried to comfort her small child.

"Why can't they leave us alone?" she sobbed.

And then the axe came through the door, "princess, are you well?" a voice called through the hole. "Are you all okay?"

"Is that Philippe de Bajou?"

"It is milady, the horror is over. The guards have all been recalled, and you are all safe."

"All?"

"All, even those that are Huguenots will not be hurt, by order of the King. I have been sent to escort you to him, your guests will not be hurt, the order to kill them has been rescinded."

---------------

28th August

Dalia couldn't conceive of any way that her husband could have survived the atrocity, so she had spent much of the last day looking for him amongst the dead.

Many times she had seen a corpse that from a distance looked like him, but when she got close it was someone else.

And so she held a small glimmer of hope.

That was until she had made her way to his mother's house.

Shards of pottery scattered the floor, blood plastered the walls, and in the middle of the house, in the kitchen, on the table she found the dead bodies of the inhabitants.

And amongst them was her beloved Stephan, dead, slaughtered, ripped apart.

A whimper came from deep within her, as she stared at the scene in front of her, and then she jumped as a slender hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"My brother died for me" a little voice echoed around the kitchen, "he could have left me to die, but he came to save us all. He made me hide in our secret hiding place, but I saw everything that happened."

"Lucia, you are safe" Dalia hugged the child.

"He said after everything had calmed down, you would come looking for him. He said that you were to flee Paris, leave France, and I was to go with you."

Dalia nodded her head glumly, "he was always thinking of others."

"You should have seen him Dalia; he faced them with no fear. And then he turned his face to heaven, and said into your hands I give my spirit."

"He was a martyr, like the first one, Stephen."

"Yes he was" the girl agreed, and then like her body could no longer stand up, she fell to a heap on the kitchen floor, in a faint.

"I promise my love I will look after her, as I will look after our little girl Stephanie" she said looking towards heaven where she knew her beloved was. "I will miss you."

--------------

30th August

With the help of Marguerite de Valois, they soon managed to flee France. Now safe on a boat heading for England Dalia murmured into the two girls' ears, "the Queen of England is a Protestant, we will be safe there."

She looked over the deep blue sea, wondering what their new lives would bring them and just for a second she saw a young girl hurrying through the streets of London, and heard a name, it was Delania.


	15. Delania, 1665AD

Dalania 1665

The sun shining through the window woke her that day. Delania threw back her blanket, and ran to the window, revelling in the dust dancing in the beams of light. She could not resist the temptation to throw open the shutters, and poked her head out, breathing in the morning air.

She looked over the view of London, the tightly packed wattle and daub timber houses, some with straw roofs, and some with slate. The small alleys that ran between some of them were covered in rubbish, and human excrement, as was the street down below. She could just see the wooden tower of St. Paul's Cathedral in the distance, an ever present hope to those caught up in the pestilence.

"Get your head back in" a gruff voice shouted from the street below.

She peered down to see her runner, and her guard. "I'm sorry" she mumbled.

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

"No" she replied, "not today." For the last week, he had been bringing her family the things they needed, though he didn't do it out of the kindness of his heart, he helped them for money, and a lot at that.

For a second she still didn't move, "how long do I have to stay here?"

"Until a doctor says you are free of all illness, but even I know that it is too soon. You could still catch it."

"I know" she retorted, and then shut the window, feeling a tear prickle in her eye. "This will not do" she admonished herself, "what would my mother say? She would want me to be busy."

Hurriedly she got dressed and left her room.

First she past her little brother's room, she recalled how loud he had always been, how he had laughed and screamed, ran around with endless energy. Now all that remained of him was an unmade bed, she sat down on the edge of it, remembering his swollen glands, how his skin had blackened, and finally how he had stopped breathing. So she couldn't bring herself to take the bedding of his bed, it would be too much like acknowledging that he was really gone.

In her parent's room, she thought about how she had nursed them, how her father had told her to stay away, fearful she would catch their illness, but she didn't go. She was there at the end.

Finally she entered the room her younger sisters had occupied; only the day before she had nursed the last one alive, the doctor had come to see her, but hadn't touched her. The child had cried in her fright at the sight of the man, his outfit, a black long tunic, gloves, and a mask that looked like a raven. In his hand he held a long stick that he had pointed at the child. Then he had given Delania a bottle that contained a liquid that would make her sister empty her bowels, the disease meant to leave the body with its stools.

She had died that night, her body worn out as much from the laxative as from her illness.

Delania reached the kitchen, seeing a rat on the table; she grabbed the broom and whacked at it. Then she sat down heavily on the bench and started to cry, she was all alone, her family had died around her, and she was left trapped in the house of her childhood.

She scratched furiously at a flee bite, "do I have a future?" she wondered. "Will I survive the plague?"

-------------------

Delania happily watched the countryside go past, as she was sat in a cart. The day before she had finally received her certificate of health and had been allowed out of quarantine. Now she was heading to her uncle's home in a small Derbyshire village. The Reverend William Mompesson was the elder brother of her mother, who she had only met once. Still her father had insisted that if she survived the pestilence she was to make her way there. In her hand she clasped a letter, and in her heart she held hope that she would be welcome.

"You will be okay in there" the driver was saying, "it's plague free, and they are a lovely caring people, who will welcome you with open arms. I know your uncle, he is a good man and he has a lovely family. He has young children you know, a five year old daughter and a three year old son, I am sure that he and his wife would appreciate your help with them."

"Oh I would love that, I miss my family so much."

"Did they die of the Black Death?"

Glumly she nodded her head, and wiped a tear from her eye.

"I'm sorry dear; that must be hard."

They didn't talk again for some time, but as they were nearing their destination, the driver turned to her, and smiled. "I was glad to get out of London to be quite honest; I don't intend to return until this disease has run its course. Just this delivery to finish and then I am going home.

She turned around and looked in the back of the cart, "what are you delivering?"

"Food stuff mainly, spices, and dried fruit. Oh and a package for a tailor staying in the village at the moment, a Mister George Vicars."

---------------------

"Oh yes" the young woman's face shone with joy, "you are most welcome here. I am Catherine, I suppose you should call me aunt but as you are nearly sixteen, I think we can dispense with that."

Delania had received the warmest welcome she could ever imagine, and now her truck brought in for her, she was being plied with cakes and tea.

"I am so sorry to hear about your family, and obviously my husband is going to be distraught when he hears his big sister has died of that horrible illness. He is out visiting parishioners at the moment, the Rowe's have just had a baby, a little boy and he has gone to talk to them about his Baptism."

"How old is the baby?"

"He is only a few days old. I saw him yesterday, and I could have sworn that he smiled at me. I can tell that he is going to be a lively boy when he grows up, one to look out for."

Delania smiled, she had never known such a talkative woman.

"I was going to visit the tailor today" Catherine continued, "of course you must come with me, you can help with the children. Oh they are going to love you, Alice is five, and little George is three. They are such delightful children."

"I would love to accompany you." In truth it had been a long time since she had done anything frivolous such as visiting a dress maker.

"Yes, yes, we had better be going. If you are ready we will go now."

----------------------

"Mrs Mompesson, it is a delight to see you. And how is our minister these days?"

"My husband is well Mister Vicars, and has been wondering where you have been these last few Sundays" she said candidly, a touch of humour behind the austerity of her question.

"I have been so busy with material coming in from London; I have had hardly any time for anything else."

"Maybe you should make time" she suggested.

"But what would my customers think if I didn't always have clothes and material for them?" He looked at the minister's wife, and touched her hand, "I will try to come tomorrow." He saw Delania stood silently examining a box of ribbons. "Who is this lovely lady? Is she your niece?"

"This is my dear Delania, her mother was the sister of my husband."

"Was?"

"Was" Delania stepped forward, "my family are dead and I have come to live in Eyam."

"I am sorry to hear that Miss" he drew a cross in the air, "was it the dreaded pestilence?" he almost whispered.

She nodded her head.

"Well God save us from that illness, it is horrible what has been happening in our capital city" Catherine said, "now Mister Vicars I hear you had some material arrive from London earlier today."

"I did indeed, I haven't even unpacked the parcels yet. Just wait a moment and I will see what we have."

As they waited Alice started to sing to herself, and George started to play with a small wooden car.

"Hush" Catherine gently admonished them, "there is a time for play and now is not it."

They were standing behind their mother again when the tailor came back in.

"Arh, yes, these are what came from London" he carefully cut the twine around one of the parcel and rolled it out. "old clothes" he muttered, "bit damp too. They must have got wet on the journey here. I will hang them up to dry."

He looked up at Catherine, "it must be the other parcel" he smiled, and hurriedly unrolled that to reveal sage green cotton. "That would make a lovely skirt" he commented.

Delania looked longingly at the material.

"Do you like it Delania?" Catherine asked, seeing her interest.

"It is lovely."

"Then I will buy it for you."

"Oh no, that would be too generous of you."

"You are family, young lady, and the niece of the Minister of this village no less. Plus I find myself liking you with every minute I spend in your company. Let me buy it for you."

Delania nodded, and joyfully eyed the material.

"Mister Vicars, send it to Emmott Sydall, the seamstress. I will send for her to take Delania's measurements."

"Yes, Mrs Mompesson."

-------------------------

Delania whirled around in her new skirt and bodice and laughed as she felt it tickle her ankles. "Oh Emmott, it is lovely" she cooed, smiling at the young woman who had made it, and had also become a friend. "I can't believe you can make an outfit in just a day, your needle must have been flying."

"I have always enjoyed making clothes, though making that dress was extra special because it meant I made a new friend, and it suits you Delania. A pretty girl like you should have nice clothes, and after what you have been through, who could begrudge you a little happiness."

Delania hugged the older woman, and then in a conspiratory way, asked "have you heard from Roland Torre recently?"

Emmott giggled, "I have seen him every day for the last few weeks, I absolutely adore him, and I think he feels the same about me. I don't think it will be long before he approaches my father to ask to marry me."

"Ooh, that is wonderful. A wedding to plan" Delania dreamily smiled, "one day I will get married" she cooed, "I wonder what my husband will be like."

"If he is anything like you, then he will be wonderful" Emmott hugged her, "but you have plenty of time yet. You aren't in danger of being an old maid like me."

"You are only twenty two, that is hardly an old maid" Delania started to laugh.

"My mother and my sisters were married by their twenty first birthday, by their standard I already am an old maid."

"Can I come?"

"What?" Emmott didn't understand the question for a moment, but then smiled, "to the wedding? Of course you can. In fact I want you to be one of my bridesmaids."

"Really, oh that would be lovely."

"I think I would like a spring wedding, my birthday is at the end of April, just think how perfect it would be with all the flowers just in bloom."

-----------------------

"Roland got my father's permission to marry me last night Delania" Emmott ran up to her, not caring that her skirt was flying up around her ankles in her happiness. "He asked me this morning, and he gave me this ring."

Delania looked at the sparkling silver ring.

"We are going to be married on my birthday, the twenty ninth of April. My fiancé" she proudly said, "is in with your uncle now organising all the details."

"Emmott, I am so happy for you."

"I am going to wear my mother's wedding dress; it was her grandmother's originally. It is a bit old fashioned, but she said that she would help alter it."

"Oh I would like to help too. Though I am not very good at sewing" Delania looked crestfallen.

Emmott thought for a moment, and then happiness spilling out of her face said, "you could pick the wedding flowers from Cucklet Delph. And maybe you could weave them into crowns, and other shapes."

Delania smiled, "I would like that. What is your favourite flowers?"

"Well the sweet pea is the flower for April so I suppose that" she bit her lip for a moment, "though some say they symbolise goodbyes."

"Well you will be saying goodbye to your old life" Delania pointed out, "goodbye to being an old maid?"

"Yes, you are right" she shook her head as if to clear a dark shadow that had fallen over her, "sweet pea it is then, they grow all over that meadow."

Just then they saw the intended groom hurrying out of the Church accompanied by Delania's uncle. Neither of them looked happy.

"Go home Emmott" Roland told her.

"And you Delania" her uncle added.

"Why? What has happened?" both women asked.

The men hurried away, towards the house of the Coopers.

"What's going on?" Delania wanted to know, "why are they going there?"

"Let's follow" Emmott suggested.

Hand in hand, no idea what was about to be visited on them, they ran after the two men.

Outside the Cooper's house was a small crowd.

"What is going on in there?" Emmott asked, nodding towards the open door of a cottage.

"George Vicars is ill."

"They say he has the plague."

Just then William Mompesson, Delania's uncle, walked out of the cottage, his face was graver that she had ever seen it before. "George Vicars is dead" he said, "everyone go to their homes now, and stay there."

"Did he die of the plague?" a woman called out.

He nodded his head once, and then saw Delania. He marched over to her, and grabbed her hand, "you need to get home now, come on I will take you."

She only had time to wave to Emmott before he dragged her away.

------------------------

"It has been two weeks now since poor mister Vicars died, and no one else has got ill" Catherine was saying one bright morning towards the end of September. I think we have managed to avoid the plague, he was the only case."

"Yes dear, it seems that way" William conceded, "and life has gone on since his death. People were afraid for a few days, but then they were fed up of staying home and got on with what they had to."

"Do you think I could go and see Emmott then?" Delania asked, unlike the rest of the village, she had spent the last two weeks in the vicarage.

"Yes my dear" he smiled kindly, "there is no danger. Go and see your friend, I am sure she wants your help organising that wedding of hers, especially as Roland is away at one of the farms his father has a contract with for grain."

"Grain?"

"His father is a flour miller."

Delania nodded, and hurried of to get ready.

-----------------------

"Oh Delania" Emmott cried, pulling her into the cottage quickly, "you shouldn't have come. We have just got news that Edward Cooper is ill."

Delania didn't see the connection.

"Edward lives in the house that George Vicars died in. They say he is covered in buboes, and has a racking cough, I fear he has the plague."

"But my uncle said it was safe……………"

"Yes, I am sure he thought it was. I don't doubt he would never have risked your life is letting you come so close to the plague otherwise."

"Emmott" a voice called from another room, and a girl appeared covered in flour. "Are you helping make these pies or what?"

"This is my little sister Sarah" Emmott introduced, "in fact I think you two are very close in age. You are nearly sixteen aren't you Delania. Well Sarah is fourteen. The baby of the family."

"Give over with you Emmott calling me the baby" she wiped her floury hands on her apron and put her hand out to Delania, "it is nice to meet you, and whatever my sister says about me being the youngest isn't true. We have a little brother who is ten."

"But you are my baby sister still" Emmett giggled seeing the look of exasperation on her face.

"Delania" someone started banging on the door, "are you in there?"

"It is my uncle" she realised.

"He will have come to take you home" Emmett said, "don't come here again. If no one else gets ill I will come and see you in a month."

"Do you promise?"

Emmott smiled gently and kissed her on her cheek, "I need to keep an eye out for my bridesmaids don't I?"

----------------------

Delania decided as she was confined to the vicarage to make full use of her uncle and aunt's library. She ignored Catherine's romance novels, and looked for anything that could advance her knowledge.

And when she found a large tome all about healing, she knew that she had hit gold.

As she was a respectful girl, she made sure that she was allowed to read it, and then took it to her room to consume its contents.

As she opened the front of the book, a smell of old remedies hit her making her remember her mother's small garden where she had grown herbs.

For a moment she was taken back to when she was a small child, and would play amidst the apple trees, while her mother ground herbs.

She remembered the big floppy hat her mother always wore that fell over her face, but at least it protected her tender skin from the rays of the sometimes harsh sun.

Her father had complained when she had come back with grass stained skirts, and freckles all over her face, but her mother had laughed and said that she was just a child and should enjoy life.

And she thought about the day two years before when she had fallen and broken her leg. Her mother had treated her, set her leg and gave her tea to help with the pain.

"I want to be like her" Delania said to herself, and wiping a tear of her cheek before it could fall on the precious book and run its ink, she started to read.

"For too long healing has been associated with the supernatural. In a day where all but the ways of God are forbidden."

Delania looked at the date the book was written, it said sixteen fifty five, "ten years ago" she gasped, "during the English commonwealth, while England had had the Lord Protector instead of a King on the throne. While the Puritans were in charge."

She was about to go back to what she had been reading, when she noticed the author's name. "William Mercer, oh how strange that the man who wrote this book should have the same last name as me." The writing looked strangely familiar, "could it be?" she mused in wonder, "that my mother wrote this book, and used my father's last name, and my uncle's first?" She hugged the book closer, thinking it would explain why a minister would have a book in his library about herbal medicine.

She felt much closer to her mother as she began to read again, "In a day where all but the ways of God are forbidden, and those that practise herbalism are often persecuted, accused of witchcraft and executed, it is a dangerous thing to write such a book. But I must, for my children who come after me; they must know the heritage our family has passed down since the beginning of time. We are healers, and the desire to help runs through our blood. And so I will write down all the remedies I use, in the hope that one day this book will be found, and used to heal the sick."

"It was here, mother wrote this book" Delania said to herself in wonder.

She turned the page, and saw that herbs and their healing properties had been listed alphabetically.

"Agrimony, native to Britain, this perennial grows to between one and three feet high and has slender spikes of yellow flowers. It is used as an anti-inflammatory, relieving skin, mouth and throat inflammation. Known for its throat-soothing action, it can be used as a gargle."

She turned a few pages until she came to the letter D. "Dill, it is used to treat colic, gas, and indigestion. Dill weed contains an agent, which has a calming effect and aids with digestion by relieving intestinal gas."

She skipped more pages, "Peppermint, used as a stimulant, for headaches, sore throats, muscle aches, insect bites, toothaches and as a breath freshener."

"Valerian is used as a sedative and to reduce anxiety and irritability."

The more she read, the more she became intrigued. She flipped to the back, where there was an index of illnesses and a list of herbs that were useful in treating them. She ran her finger down the page until she came to what she was searching for.

"Plague, see acetic acid, calamus, camphor, cinnamon, clove, garlic, lavender, mint, nutmeg, rosemary, rue, sage, white wine vinegar and wormwood, both greater and lesser."

She stared at the words, in fact they had started to dance around the page, she remembered many of these remedies hanging around the house, and her mother insisting they all take possets of them, "so why did she die?" she wondered, "if these plants hold the cure, why did they all perish?"

She put the book down in disgust, and started to sob.

--------------------

"Delania, can you come into the study?" Catherine poked her head around her bedroom door. "Your uncle wishes to speak to you."

She had been sat cross legged on her bed, so hurriedly put on her boots, lacing them up. Then she stood in front of the mirror, straightening her dress to make sure she was decent, and tidied her hair.

She entered her uncle's study five minutes later.

"Delania" her uncle looked up. "sit down, I will be with you in just a moment.

He turned back to the letter he was writing, she watched as his pen scratched ink onto the paper. Then he dusted it with sand, blew it to make sure it was dry, and folded it, and put it in an envelope, sealing it with candle wax and his signet ring.

He looked up at Delania, "I am sending Alice and George to relatives in Sheffield" he told her, "more people have died of the plague. I fear it is getting out of hand. I have asked Catherine to accompany them, but she says that she wants to stay by my side, what about you?"

Delania thought about her family dying, and then about the book of herbal remedies. She knew that her mother would have wanted her to help. She looked up at her uncle, and said "I will stay, I didn't get it when the rest of my family perished, there is no reason to believe I will get it now."

"But there is also no reason to be believe you won't get it" he pointed out.

"I want to help; many of the people of this village have become my friends. How can I save myself knowing Emmott is in such danger?"

"You are your mother's daughter alright" he smiled sadly, "okay you can stay. And if you want to help, you can accompany me when I visit the sick."

Delania gulped and then nodded her head.

"Good" he looked away for a moment, and then turned back to her, "you mentioned Emmott, I should tell you that one of those dead is her sister Sarah."

"Sarah? But I met her, she was so healthy, how can she be dead?" She started to cry, "she was only fourteen."

He touched her shoulder, "I know Delania, but I fear before this pestilence has finished having its way with us, many more young ones will perish."

And as if to emphasise this statement, Catherine entered the study with grave news, "I have just heard, Mathew Hands and little Elizabeth Thorpe have died too. That is eight dead now is less than a month."

----------------------

Once the children had left, there was no reason to remain in the vicarage. The village was so small that they didn't think there was much chance of avoiding contact with the plague, and besides they had work to do.

Her uncle had closed the Church and organised an outside one on Cucklet Delph.

And that was when he told them his plan.

"My people" he shouted out to the families, who stood far away from each other. Eight of our friends and neighbours have already died of this illness, everyone is scared, but I urge you do not panic. We need to stay in our village, and prevent spreading the plague.

"It is alright for you to say that" a man called out, "you have sent your children away."

"And my wife and niece have stayed behind" her uncle reminded them.

"Are you saying we need to quarantine ourselves?" a woman shouted.

"Yes, that is exactly what I am saying."

"And what if we refuse? What if we just leave this village and illness behind?"

"Then many in the villages around us, and farther afield will get ill and die, could you stand that? Would you not feel guilty?

"But…"

"We need to go by the Bible, in John 15 verse 13 it says 'greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends'. We need to think of that and act accordingly. As for me, I will not spread this illness."

"But if we seal the village off, we will starve."

"This afternoon I intend to send a letter to the mayor of Stony Middleton, telling him of our decision and asking that he organise aid to us, so that we don't starve."

"We aren't charity cases" a woman said proudly.

"Then pay for what food is left. Leave some coins."

"What about the risk of spreading the plague?

"Put the coins on a stone, the boundary one, and then douse it with vinegar. That should kill it."

"Wish it would work for us."

"So do I" the minister said sadly.

----------------

Delania had been reading the herbal remedies book over and over, and had even talked to her uncle and aunt about the information she had found.

And so armed with garlic, rosemary and other herbs, they left their sanctuary on the second Monday in October and headed for the houses were people were worse affected.

By then four more had died, making a total of twelve dead, and there were reports that more were ill.

"Delania" her uncle stopped her for a moment, and looked deeply into her eyes, "what you are about to see is so horrible……….."

"Uncle William remember I saw my family die of this pestilence, don't worry about me being shocked."

"He nodded, but then continued, "Emmott's father, her brother, and another sister are amongst them, Emmott is okay, as yet, as are her mother and two remaining sisters. But only time will tell whether they survive this illness."

"I know uncle" she gently put her hand on his arm, "but it is hard to cope with isn't it?" She said that for she had suddenly realised that it was him that was having trouble coping. "Come on, the sooner we get there, the sooner we can get some good food into them" she indicated the basket she carried filled with food.

"And if they can't eat it?"

"Then those that are well will have more" she said simply, "and hopefully build their resistance up."

---------------------------

From that day onwards, each morning Delania woke still well, she marked a piece of paper, and each night she wrote down the names of the dead.

By Christmas Eve, her morning paper was filled with ten weeks worth of marks and her night list was filled with forty five names of those who had died of the plague.

So they didn't have a good Christmas, but struggled on as well as they could.

By new year's day, another had died.

-----------------------

"Delania, hurry there is another person sick" Catherine told her.

She looked at her aunt, didn't even have to ask for a name, the situation was becoming so recurrent.

"It's Samuel Merrell, took ill in the night" she was told.

Her uncle was out already visiting someone sick, so the need to help fell totally on their shoulders.

Ushered into his home by his mother, she whispered in an anguished voice, "he has been complaining of dizziness, pain in the head and back for the last couple of day. And he has seemed so depressed, so lacking in life, and a bit confused. To be quite honest at first I thought he had been at the beer, he was staggering around like a drunkard, and being sick. Last night he told me that he had diarrhoea, and had been feeling really cold. But it has been replaced this morning with a fever, and he has been screaming about the pains in his body now."

"Okay, let us look at him" Catherine told her.

Delania had examined many a plague victim by now, and knew exactly what the signs and symptoms were. The first thing Delania noticed was how hot the skin on his stomach was, it also felt very dry, and tight. She looked in his mouth, and saw that his tongue was heavily coated, as were his teeth and lips with dark, bloody crusts. She felt for his pulse, it was weak. And his hands were unnaturally cold as was his feet. She looked closer at his face, it had a bluish hue to it, and when she felt his neck she could fee the beginning of his glands enlarging.

"Yes" she looked at the older woman with sorrow, "he has the plague."

--------------------

As she was coming away from Samuel Merrell's home, she noticed Emmott hurrying by. She called her but the young woman seemed to be preoccupied, and didn't hear her.

"I am going to catch up with her" she told Catherine, and then hurried off down the lane the way that her friend had gone.

She soon realised that she was going to Cucklet Delph. "What is she up to?" she murmured to herself.

She found out pretty quickly because right at the top there was a rock, and she hadn't managed to walk around it when she heard voices.

"Roland are you there?" she heard Emmott shout.

"Yes my love" she heard faintly called back.

"I have missed you'"

"And I too Emmott, are you well?"

"I haven't got the plague."

"Good, how is your mother?"

"Physically she is fine, but she has lost her husband, a son, and three of her daughters. She only has me here now."

"I talked to your brother the other day, he told me to tell you he is praying for you all, as we all are."

"Tell him I love him."

"I will my sweet."

"I love you Roland."

"And I love you, I just wish I could hold you."

"Soon Roland, this plague can't last forever. Every night I look at your ring and pray."

"I am glad it gives you comfort my love. I have brought you some bread and cheese, some milk and chicken. I will leave it here on the boundary stone when I go. Make sure you eat some."

"I will my love, now leave quickly before I run down there, and throw myself in your arms, and expose you to this deadly pestilence."

"Emmott, you know I only stay away because you tell me to. I would enter your village, and become one of the quarantined if you so wished."

"But I don't wish, I want you to live my love. Go now."

For some time there was no more talking or noise, Delania was just about to peek over the rock when she heard her friend coming around the rock.

"How long have you been meeting him Emmott?" she accused.

Her friend's face drained of blood, "since the start" she managed to squeak out.

"It has to stop, you know that don't you? You could give him the plague, and he would take it back to his village, then our sacrifice will be for nothing."

"But we always stand well apart."

"I could tell that by how faint his voice was, but it is too dangerous. Tell me you won't meet again, not until after the plague."

Glumly her friend nodded, and said, "I won't meet him again."

--------------------------

Every day she went back to Samuel's house, and every day his symptoms got worse, He was now covered in buboes, crying with pain.

By the fifth day, suppuration had occurred, and his buboes were filling with pus, and starting to weep.

"I think this is a good sign" Delania told his mother, who still hadn't become prey to the illness, regardless of all the time nursing him she had spent.

A few days later, he was sat up in bed, tired, aching still, and covered in what would be scars, but he was getting better, he hadn't died.

"My nurse" he said of Delania, "your pretty face kept me from dying."

Embarrassed, Delania told him that his mother had been the one who nursed him, she had only managed to help a bit.

"Hey, let a sick man say what he wants" he insisted, "if I want to say that a beautiful woman was the reason I survived then that is up to me.

His mother looked embarrassed, "she is the niece of the minister" she whispered to him through clenched teeth.

"Oh so I know who to talk to them don't I?" he said jovially.

Delania smiled, she couldn't help herself. In front of her was one of the only people she had ever known to survive the black death.

------------------------

They didn't have many reasons for celebrating, so when there was some good news, it spread like the plague did. The news of Samuel's survival brought hope to those in desperate and hopeless situations. On top of that Delania was finally to turn sixteen the next day.

"My uncle is giving me a celebration, we are only inviting a few close friends" she told Emmott. "I know you should be getting ready to get married at the weekend, but a party would do you good. Plus we can celebrate your birthday too, as that is in a few days."

For a moment Emmott was silent, as thought about the man she had planned to marry who she hadn't seen in months. She half didn't want to go, but Delania was her friend, and she couldn't refuse her. Plus she realised it would be good to have some fun.

"I would love to." She laughed for the first time in a long time.

And so on the twenty fifth of April sixteen sixty six, Delania turned sixteen.

With eggs delivered by villagers outside Eyam, Catherine had made a birthday cake, Emmott had picked flowers from a meadow, and her uncle had wrapped a present up for her.

Samuel, now much better, strode into the vicarage on that morning, bringing with him a dress.

"How did you?" she held it up in wonder.

"I have family outside Eyam, we haven't seen them since the outbreak, but sometimes we leave a note along with coins asking for special things. That is how I got your dress, it is brand new, and more importantly clean."

Delania hugged it to her, and then after getting permission, rushed to her room, and changed into it.

"That pink matches the roses in your cheeks" Samuel smiled as she came back. "You look beautiful."

She blushed when he said that, and it made her heart surge within her.

"She does look lovely" her uncle said, "in fact she reminds me of her mother. There is just one thing missing" he picked up the parcel, and watched her face light up as she unwrapped it to reveal a locket. "It was your mother's growing up, if you look inside you will see a lock of her hair."

Delania trembled as she opened it, and smiled when she saw the white blonde hair she remembered had adorned her mother's head. "Thank you uncle" she started to cry, but wiped her tears to allow him to put it around her neck.

Catherine passed her a goblet of wine, and then they all toasted her birthday.

An hour later, Emmott approached her; "it has been a good party" she smiled.

Delania felt she could sense something strange behind the woman's peaceful face.

"I am going home now, I am feeling a bit tired" Emmott continued. She nodded towards Samuel, "he likes you, and I think you feel the same" she said and started to laugh that quickly turned into a cough.

"Are you alright Emmott?"

Emmott started to nod her head, but then collapsed in a heap.

"Emmott" she touched her friend's hand, it was cold. "No" Delania started to cry, "no" she looked around for her uncle, "help her please" she yelled, as she saw him running over towards them.

----------------------------

For the next few days Delania went to Emmott's house every morning, and the hope that she held on each occasion was dashed as she found out that her friend had got a bit worse.

By the fourth day of her illness it was obvious that she was not going to be lucky like Samuel. Still Delania prayed, begging and sometimes demanding that God saved Emmott.

But it was no use; she was at death's door. Plague spots now blackened her once beautiful skin; her mouth was black from the contents that continuously came out of it. And there was a stench coming from her, as her skin rotted away.

And she screamed, hardly ever seemed coherent, but when she was she would sob that she was sorry to be leaving her love.

That morning, she grabbed Delania's hand, and hissed into her face, "tell him I love him, tell him I am sorry. Tell him that I wish that today, my birthday, had been our wedding day like we planned instead of the day of my death."

"I will" Delania sobbed, "I will."

"May God bless you and keep this illness from you Delania" she said as she breathed her last.

"Emmott!"

And so it was on Sunday the 29th of April, Miss Emmott Sydall departed this life, becoming the seventy third person to die of the plague in Eyam.

--------------------------

The next months were hell on earth, and Delania sometime wondered how she survived. Emmott wasn't the last to die of the plague, far from it, another four died in May, and nineteen in June. In July fifty six died, and in August, most devastating of all, seventy seven people lost their lives, including her now beloved aunt Catherine.

"Uncle, you have to get up" Delania tried to urge him a year after she had arrived in Eyam, a year after the plague had come and taken so many lives.

"What is the use Delania? All I see is death. And still I remain, healthy, alive. Why is God allowing this pestilence to hurt us so much?"

"I don't know uncle, but we have to be strong. Surely it can't go on for much longer."

But it did, in September and October another forty three passed away.

And all through this Samuel was ever present in her life, giving her darkest days a glimmer of light.

On the first day of November sixteen sixty six, after hearing about yet another death, he asked her to marry him. "After all this finishes, I want to go to the new world he told her, I want to start a new life, far away from this pestilence. Will you come with me, as my wife?"

And she said yes.

And there were no more deaths, the plague had lost its grip on Eyam, it had taken two hundred and seventy three lives, but no more.

The little village had sacrificed itself to death. By the time the quarantine was lifted there were only eighty people alive.

And Roland came to find his bride, only to find that she had died, and was buried in Cussy Dell. He would spend the rest of his life alone, never to marry, and always to mourn for his Emmott Sydall.

-------------------

Delania and Samuel got married a few years later on her eighteenth birthday, and three years later, on the twenty seventh of May in the year sixteen seventy one, they boarded the ship Arabella, heading for the New World.

And as her husband held her in his arms, and the ship rocked her to sleep, she dreamt of a child that was coming, a girl called Lelana.

------------------------

_Eyam is a real place. In September 1665 it did receive clothing with infected fleas._

_The only names that are not real are Delania and Samuel; all the others lived and died in Eyam._

_Emmott and Roland really existed, but the plague tore them apart. He spent the rest of his life mourning his lost love._

_And 273 died in that small village between September 1665 and November 1666._

_Really really sad story. They really did sacrifice themselves so their neighbours wouldn't get the plague._

_And many in England and probably around the world owe their existence to them. _

_How many of our ancestors would have died if it had got out of Eyam? how many of us would never have existed?_

_God bless them._


	16. Lelana, 1692AD

Lelana 1692AD

"Betty Parris, Abigail Williams I will have no more of this silly behaviour" Lelana said.

"Yes Miss Merrell" Abigail responded.

Betty was another matter, "it is John Bennett Miss, he keeps pulling nasty faces at me."

Lelana sighed, when she had decided to be a teacher she had thought that she would be teaching children who wanted to learn, she had soon realised how wrong she had been with that idea.

"John, have you been doing what Betty says?"

The boy looked up from his slate, and stared innocently at her, "what me Miss?"

"And he pulled Abigail's hair" Betty added.

Lelana pursed her lips, "John, come here" she said with quiet authority.

"But Miss……………."

"Now!"

Reluctantly the boy shuffled to the front of the class.

"Here you are" Lelana passed him a piece of chalk, "I want you to write a hundred lines on the board, I will not annoy other children. After you finished that you can sit on the dunce's stool for the rest of the morning."

"What about playtime Miss?"

"You will miss playtime today, hopefully you can spend that time thinking about your behaviour." She watched him as he dragged heavy feet to the blackboard, and started to write on it, then she turned around.

"Betty, unless you want the same punishment as John, then I suggest you put your tongue away and concentrate on your work."

"Yes Miss Merrell" Betty said meekly.

------------------------

It was Lelana's first day of teaching at the school; when she had heard about the position she had jumped at the chance to work so close to where she had grown up. In Boston she had been born, and educated. Eventually she had trained to be one of the only female teachers in the area.

Her parents had encouraged her to reach for what she wanted all through her childhood, and young adulthood. And that was what she had done.

But after seeing how disruptive the children were in this small village, she was starting to wonder if she had made a mistake.

-------------------------

"Miss Merrell, were Betty and Abigail good for you this day?" Reverend Samuel Parris asked of his daughter and niece that night.

It had been this holy man who had given her the teaching position, and had also given her accommodation. They had said that a single woman, and a young one as she was, needed to be protected and had insisted she live in their home.

And Lelana had been happy of that, until she had spent the day teaching the naughty duo.

"We learned how to spell a new word today father" nine year old Betty said. She looked at Lelana as if to say, don't you dare say anything, and then continued, "omnipresent" she smiled at his reaction, "o m n i p r e s e n t, it means everywhere. We learned that God is everywhere and see everything."

"Oh my Betty" he roared with joy, "have you ever met such a spiritual child. I don't doubt when she is an adult that she will do something big for God and this town" he said proudly.

And Betty looked proud too, she positively exuded smugness and conceit.

"I learnt that word too uncle" Abigail added, turning hopeful eyes on his, like a puppy searching for affection.

"Of course you did" he patted her head, and then turned his attention back to Betty.

Lelana couldn't help feeling sorry for the girl, she had been annoying in class, but from what she had seen in the family home, she had a lot to contend with, she was always second best, and one step behind the seemingly perfect and can't do no wrong, according to her father, Betty.

-------------------------

"Just because you were a perfect angel doesn't mean all children are good. Betty sounds like a spoilt brat" Delania said to her daughter.

"Her father is to blame; it is like he thinks she can do no wrong. And he ignores poor Abigail, it is no wonder she is starting to act up."

"Well she sees her cousin being naughty and acts accordingly. The poor lamb, it sounds like she just needs a bit of love."

"Maybe."

"I worry for you in that house. I wasn't keen on you staying there what with the mother being an invalid, but after what you have said I am even more concerned. I have a strange feeling about little Betty, I think she is being allowed too much freedom, and that will lead to her downfall."

------------------------

Delania didn't know how prophetic her words were. For while the two of them sat in her front room in Boston, things had started to go badly wrong in the Parris household.

Thankfully Lelana wasn't there, or she would probably had offered her opinion as a healer, and that would have not been good.

When she got back she heard all about it from one of the servants.

"Miss Betty was sitting eating her dinner" the maid said, "when all of a sudden she jumped up and started to talk a load of gibberish, and then fell to the ground like she was having a fit. Then she started to run around, crawled under the furniture, and rived on the floor complaining of pain, and a fever."

"Oh dear" Lelana said, about to say that she would look in on the girl, and try to help her with the herbal knowledge that her mother had given her as she grew up.

"But that wasn't the last of it" the maid continued, "oh no. Abigail started acting the same; she even tried to climb up the chimney breast. Then the pair of them started to scratch at their skin, said that it prickled, and said the devil was close at hand."

"The devil?" Lelana whispered in horror.

"Tituba was in the kitchen at the time and immediately ran to empty the chamber pot in the girls' room, mixing it with rye to make what she said was a witch cake. Then she fed it to the dog insisting it would reveal the identity of their afflicter. But the master heard what she had done, and beat her, accusing her of being a witch, and she confessed."

"She did?"

"She said she loved Betty and Abigail, and didn't want to hurt them. And she said there was a coven of witches in the town, naming Sarah Good and Sarah Osborne as two of them."

"But they are just harmless old women."

"It doesn't matter that they are easy prey, we just have to hope that no one accuses us" the maid looked hard at her, "and we have to make sure that we don't give them any reason to."

Lelana nodded, resolving right then to make sure she didn't give herself away as a herbal healer.

"These are black times."

"They are indeed" the maid agreed. "And I think things are going to get a lot darker in Salem."

-----------------

The next day Lelana was nervous as she went into the school house. But all through the day nothing happened, Betty and Abigail were their usual precocious selves, but apart from that it was a day like any other.

That was until they had visitors. As Samuel Parris and Thomas Putnam, pillars of the village, stepped in, the two girls started to twitch, and scream.

Minister Parris took one look at his daughter, and then started accusingly at Lelana, "has my Betty been in distress all day? Why wasn't I called?"

"She has been fine all day………" Lelana tried to explain.

"You should have sent someone to get me" he admonished.

"Shocking behaviour for a teacher" Thomas Putnam added.

"Well she is new" Minister Parris started to concede, "I think we should let her off this time. After all this situation is new to us all, we don't really know how to handle it."

"She has been busy doing her lessons all……………"

the minister put his hand up, "enough, I forgive you" he said in a condescending voice.

"We have come to inform Betty and Abigail that they are safe now. Tituba, Sarah Good and Sarah Osborne have all been arrested."

"Sarah Osborne put a spell on me" Betty screeched.

"She did me too" Abigail quickly echoed.

By this time all the other children in the school were starring at the two girls, horror was showing on some faces; shock on still others, and on some calculation.

"I saw Sarah Good's spectral fly into my bedroom window" Ann Putnam shouted.

Her father's head shot around to her, by now she was standing on her desk, screaming and scratching at her skin, like Betty and Abigail.

"I'm cold" Mercy Lewis shivered, "a witch just flew past and made me cold."

"Oh this is bad" Thomas Putnam yelled to Minister Samuel Parris, "we have to do something."

"Yes, I will call the town council. We have to find the witches that torment our children."

He looked at Lelana and for a moment she thought he was going to accuse her of witchcraft.

"We will need the school room" he told her.

-------------------

Lelana couldn't help think that the girls were pretending to be afflicted. Betty and Abigail ate normally, and slept fine, which made her think that it was all made up.

But she didn't dare say anything; she knew that to do so would be to put herself in the firing line.

So she obeyed the leaders of the town when they asked for the school room, and she didn't comment when the council asked the doctor to examine the girls. She didn't blink an eye when he said there was nothing wrong with them, that it must be a supernatural illness caused by evil in the village.

The simple truth was she knew what was happening, she had heard that it had happened to others, and she thought it would probably happen again.

And in Salem, hell had arrived. Not brought by supposed witches, but by the innocence of youth, pushed forward by the brutality of adults that were willing to use their children to abuse their neighbours.

----------------------

And so by the end of February nineteen ninety two, after the town had spent hours, days and weeks in prayer, they came to the conclusion that they had to find the witches and stop them.

And that brought about the first trial.

In school room, come court house was filled with people. Extra chairs had been brought in, every inch of space used.

That is except for the front where there was a clear area, with one old rickety chair in the middle.

The seat for the accused.

Lelana winced when she saw the heavily pregnant Sarah Good led in. She was known as a bit weird anyway, but now covered in fifth, hair all over the place; she looked the embodiment of a witch.

But when Lelana saw her eyes, pure, innocent, she knew the truth.

As she was brought past the girls that had accused her, began to rock back and forth and moan. Mercy Lewis fell to the ground in a faint.

"Leave them alone" Reverend Parris shouted at her, "see how they suffer in the presence of this witch."

Sarah Good could only shake her head, and started walking again, leg irons clunking on the ground.

When she sat down Lelana could see fresh cuts on her legs where the manacles rubbed. She wanted to run to her, give her a soothing balm, but she knew she couldn't. It was too dangerous.

"Burn the witch" someone shouted out, and Lelana turned to see Sarah Good's neighbour.

The associate magistrate, John Hathorne sat to the left of Sarah Good, and called for order.

"Good people" he started, "we come together this day to accuse that woman" he pointed at Sarah, "of being a witch. We will hear many testimonies, all pointing to the truth of the matter."

"I'm not a witch" Sarah Good's trembling voice echoed through the now quiet room.

"Silence" the magistrate roared, "the prisoner is not allowed to speak" he glared at her. "Can the first witness come to the front?"

Minister Samuel Parris stepped forward, "I am acting on behalf of all the girls, who at their tender ages are too unused to such a situation as this."

The magistrate nodded his head, he had obviously known that this was planned.

"My daughter and my neice started displaying a strange illness. One not of this world, it quickly became apparent that they were bewitched, in fact you only have to see them now to know how terrified they are. They named that witch" he pointed at Sarah Good, "as one that was causing this affliction."

"Good, good" the magistrate smiled at the minister, "next witness."

The neighbour walked to the front, "Sarah Good is filthy, bad-tempered, and there is something very strange about her. Recently there has been a lot of livestock dying, and many of us believe that it was because of her. She also wonders door to door, asking for charity, and if someone refuses, she walks away muttering curses under her breath."

"I was repeating the ten commandments like a good Christian woman" Sarah Good shouted out.

"I have warned you witch" John Hathorne glared at her, and then smiled at her in an almost Machiavellian sneer. "Go on then, tell us what the ten commandments are."

"You shalt not steal, you shalt not lie, you shalt not…………….."

"Can't you remember the ten commandments?"

"Um, I, that is."

"She couldn't have been reciting the ten commandments" her neighbour scoffed.

"I was, I am a good Christian, I recite them because I have a bad memory, I often forget them."

"A true Christian would know them, you must be a witch."

"I'm not" Sarah sobbed.

"Arrrhhhh" a voice screamed, "I have been stabbed, she stabbed me." It was one of the girls, who promptly produced a broken knife. "She stabbed me with this."

Gasps went throughout the room, and people started to glare even more accusingly at the defendant.

"No it wasn't me" Sarah shrieked.

"That is my knife" a boy said, "I gave it to that girl yesterday."

The magistrate looked at the girl, "don't exaggerate the truth my dear" he smiled kindly at her.

Others were called to give testimony. A man said he had seen her flying through the sky on a stick, another said that she had made all the milk in his cow's udders sour.

And then Sarah Good's husband was called. He was so frightened that he testified against her, stating he had seen the Devil's mark on her body, right below her shoulder. He also told the court he had reason to believe she was either presently a witch, or would soon become one.

Lastly a young girl was brought forward, at only four years old, Dorothy Good was the daughter of the supposed witch and through trickery and being scared out of her wits, she accused her mother of consorting with the devil."

"Oh my baby" Sarah Good cried all through the magistrate shouting at her child.

And then it was time for the magistrate to make his accusations, and demand that she confess.

"Admit you're a witch."

"But I am not, I am a good woman" she said.

"Why do you torment these good people?"

"I don't."

How do you know you are not a witch?"

"I am a Christian."

"We know you are a witch."

"But I'm not."

"How long have you been a witch?"

"I'm not a witch."

"Don't deny you are a witch. Why won't you confess?"

"I can't confess to something that isn't true."

"How long have you been in the snare of the devil?"

"I belong to the Lord Jesus" she nervously laughed.

"Why do you laugh? Is it funny to see these people so hurt?"

"No."

"Why won't you confess?"

"I won't."

"Did you make a compact with the devil?"

"No."

"You cannot expect peace of conscience without a free confession?"

"My conscience is good."

"Why won't you confess?"

"I haven't done anything wrong."

"Confess."

"I am not a witch."

The questions and statements went on and on, wearing her down with each one, but still she did not admit to being a witch.

The jury had been listening all through this, and after deliberating for a short time declared her innocent.

"Arrrhhhh" screamed Betty, "she is hurting me."

"Oh, it burns" Mercy Lewis shouted.

"I'm so cold" Abigail shivered.

"Itchy, so itchy" Ann scratched at her skin.

"Sarah Good's spectral is mocking us" cried out seventeen year old Elisabeth Hubbard, "she is laughing at us, and says she is going to hurt us."

The magistrate stood up, and went over to the jury, "rethink your decision" he told them.

Within moments they returned with a new judgement, "guilty."

And the girls stopped, and smiled at each other.

"Sarah Good, you have been tried, and found guilty of being a witch. You will be hung by the neck until you are dead."

"But my baby………"

"The babe might be an innocent" Minister Parris advised the magistrate.

"Quite" John Hathorne nodded, "your hanging will be postponed until after your child has arrived" he conceded.

--------------------------

Over the next few days Sarah Good was brought in and out of court, questions and statements were continually shouted at her.

All designed to make her confess.

Testimonies were revisited, each getting more embellished as they went on. The neighbour now said she had seen Sarah nakedly cavorting with the devil in the meadows, and that the child she carried was a demon. The girls constantly shrieked, and screamed that she was torturing them. And so it went on.

When Sarah Good wasn't in the chair it was occupied by another, Sarah Osborne, though old and obviously ill, continuously denied that she was a witch.

When asked of her spectral that the accusers said had taunted them she replied, dignity showing in her voice, "I do not know that the devil goes about in my likeness to do any hurt."

But no one believed that she knew nothing. They thought she was in league with the devil.

And then came Tituba.

People had always been afraid of her, but now with the thought that she was a witch, they sobbed with fear as she was led in.

She stared them all down.

And confessed.

She admitted to being the Devil's servant.

"I saw a tall man dressed all in black" she told the hushed court, "he came up to us, myself and Sarah Good and Sarah Osborne, and he demanded we sign our names in a great book.

Sharp intake of breaths went around the room, "the devil's book" said one man, to the nods of the others assembled.

"I didn't want to sign it, but they, Sarah Good and Sarah Osborne forced me to" Tituba started to cry, "I shouldn't have signed, they made me."

And then steely eyed again, and not a tear in sight she looked up at those absorbing each word, and said "Sarah Good ordered her cat to attack Elizabeth Hubbard, causing the scratches and bite marks on the girl's body."

Elizabeth held up her hand to show the bite and scratch marks that she knew were made when she had tormented a cat.

But she didn't think the court ought to know that.

The rest of the girls smiled encouragingly at Tituba.

"I saw Sarah Good surrounded by black and yellow birds, and I heard her send them off to torment those innocent gilrls" she pointed at the accusers.

"They pulled my hair mightily hard" Betty Parris stated, rubbing her head for effect.

"When Sarah Good was in here earlier, I saw a yellow bird resting in her right hand."

"I saw that" Betty agreed.

"And me" Abigail said.

"It was one of the ones that hurt us" Mercy Lewis cried.

"You have done well to tell us of these things" the magistrate said almost kindly, "I will remember how you have helped" he promised.

-----------------------

Over the next few months more women, and men, were accused of witch craft.

"I saw Martha Corey's spectral hovering over my house, by my sister's cot" Ann Putnam said, pointing at a young child sat on her mother's lap.

"I saw Rebecca Nurse in the forest talking to demons" Abigail Williams accused.

"Elizabeth Proctor is a witch, she sent a black cat to terrorise me" Mary Warren said of her employer.

"Sarah Cloyce spectral came into my window, and made my room cold. She told me I would freeze to death if her sister witch wasn't released" Betty Parris told her father.

"John Proctor beat me and sent curses down on my head. He said he hated Christians and God and would continue to hurt me until I gave my soul to Lucifer."

"Giles Corey put a spell on a man, killing him, and taking his soul, now he haunts his home, I saw him, he begged for my help. Said the only way he could be released was if his killer was accused, convicted and hung for what he had done."

"I saw Abigail Hobbs flying on a broomstick."

"Bridget Bishop was dancing in the moonlight, and screaming spells to the sky."

"Mary Easty had relations with the devil."

And so it went on and on, some of them admitted they were witches like Tituba had but others denied it.

But worse of all was when the girls in union accused Dorothy Good of being a witch.

She was arrested, and brought to court.

She was only four years old.

"She's mad" Ann Putnam told the court.

"She repeatably bit us like she was a wild animal" Mary Walcott accused.

"She's a witch."

"Look at the bites on my arm."

The magistrate looked sternly at the squirming child, who was having trouble sitting still. "Do you confess you are a witch?"

"Weech? Dorothy giggled, "I'm a weech" she said proudly.

"So you admit it?" he shouted.

She looked at him and started to whimper, "Dorthy weech? Dorthy good girl?"

"You are a bad girl" he shouted at her.

Her bottom lip started to tremble, "Dorthy bad girl? Mama said Dorthy good girl."

"You mother is a witch, she is evil."

"Wat evel?"

"You are, you hurt these girls."

Dorothy looked at her accusers.

"Arrrhhhhh, my eyes are burning, she is burning my eyes" Betty screamed.

"Make her stop pinching me" Mercy Lewis yelled at the magistrate.

The man banged down a wooden stick on the little girl's fingers, "you are evil" he shouted at her, "leave the innocents alone."

"Mama!" Dorothy started to scream.

"She is calling her witch mother" one of the crowd called out, "and listen to her mumble, she is calling on the devil."

Everyone crossed themselves, and stared at the girl.

The magistrate roughly grabbed the little girl's hand, and pulling her up so she was stood on her toes.

"She told me her mother gave her a snake and it talks to her, and sucks blood of that finger" Ann Putnam declared.

"And this is the proof" the magistrate said with glee, "look at that mark." There was a small red spot on the end of her finger, the size of a flee bite.

"She's a witch" people shouted.

"Burn the witch" someone called out, and then the crowd took it up as a chant, "burn the witch, burn the witch, burn the witch."

"I think we have heard enough" Samuel Parris commented, "she has admitted to being a witch."

"Take her away" the magistrate flicked his hand dismissively, "Lock her in leg irons, and put her in prison."

"Mama!"

"You will be seeing your mama soon" a voice cackled, "and hopefully they will hang you together, and you can enter hell and meet your master together. And then you will burn!"

The last thing Dorothy heard as she was led out of the court was the people that should have protected her shouting for her death.

---------------------

Lelana had wanted to rip the smirks of the accusing girls' faces. She had wanted to steal the young child and protect her. She couldn't believe that they would treat Dorothy as they had.

After the trial she couldn't wait to get out of what had been a place of learning to her, but was now permanently soiled.

When she was alone, she took deep breaths and tried to hold back the tears that would not stop.

"That child should never have been treated so" a voice cut through her misery.

Lelana turned quickly and saw the face of the maid that worked for the Parris'.

The girl laughed, "he called those girls innocent, when stood before him was one who he accused but fit that description far better. What is the world coming to, that these things could happen?"

Lelana shook her head, "ssh" she put her finger to her mouth, "Mary, you have to be careful. The trees have ears."

Mary nodded, and whispered "what will happen to that child?"

"I don't know" Lelana said in a low voice, "I just hope they don't hang her."

"Hang her?" Mary shrieked, making far too much noise.

"Be quiet" Lelana said in a hushed voice, "are you stupid? All it takes is one person to hear and…………."

Mary gulped, and turned away "I had better get back to the Parris house, there is dinner to prepare."

---------------------

By the beginning of August sixteen ninety two, many had been accused of being witches, some were in prison, many of those who had admitted the crime had been treated well, and six people had gone to trial, convicted and hung.

And then there was George Burroughs. He was an American Congregational pastor, who'd graduated from Harvard University in sixteen seventy and became the minister of Salem Village ten years later. His continued in this role for three years and then moved onto Falmouth. But unfortunate events saw him return to Salem in the spring of nineteen ninety two.

And when the daughter of one of his former congregation saw him, his fate was sealed.

And he was accused of being in league with the devil.

Tried and convicted, he was led to the gallows, and climbed them with dignity, and then proceeded to perfectly read the Lord's Prayer.

"He can't be a wizard or he wouldn't be able to recite such the holy prayer" a voice shouted.

"For shame, he is innocent."

"Don't be deceived" Cotton Mather, a minister from Boston said, "he has been convicted in a court of law. Plus the devil has often transformed himself into an angel of light, it is a trick."

And so they hung the holy man.

And Lelana watched it all.

---------------------

In the middle of September Giles Corey refused to enter a plea.

But the court wasn't happy with that.

Mercy Lewis stood up and said "I saw the apparition of Giles Corey come and afflict me urging me to write in his book and so he continued most dreadfully to hurt me by times beating me and almost breaking my back. I verily believe in my heart that Giles Corey is a dreadful wizard for since he had been in prison he has still come and most grievously tormented me."

The court in the face of no plea decided on a different course of punishment. He would be pressed to death.

Lelana followed others out to the side of the river, and watched as the Minister Parris piled stones on the man.

It took him a long time to die. His breathe was squashed out of him.

-------------------

That night at dinner, Mary had just brought the food in when Betty turned around and looked at her and then said, "she has a demon on her shoulder, she is a witch."

The result was instantaneous, the Minister Parris rose to his feet, and before anything could be done, or Mary even knew what was happening, she had her arms tied behind her back, her feet tied together, and Abigail had run to get the magistrate.

And all before Lelana had even put a mouthful of food in her mouth.

"She is evil" Betty continued to spout, "she poisoned our food. And she gave Abigail boils on her bottom."

Lelana looked at the quaking girl. She was certain that she was laughing.

When Abigail got back with the magistrate, Minister Parris asked about the boils, much to her embarrassment. She refused to show them as evidence.

Then Mary was taken to spend the night in prison. She would come before the court the next day.

-------------------

"I am not a witch" Mary sobbed the next day in court.

"She has a demon on her shoulder" Betty repeated from the night before. "And she gave Abigail boils on her bottom."

Lelana had difficulty hearing Abigail hissing at her cousin over the laughter in the room, "I don't have boils."

"I saw Mary Black turn into a crow and eat all the plants from the fields" Mercy Lewis said.

"Mary Black said she was going to eat my baby sister" Ann Putnam added.

"How do you plea?" the magistrate demanded, "admit you are a witch."

"I'm not."

"Yes you are, admit it" Tituba called out.

Mary Black looked at the woman she used to work with, she had confessed witch craft and had been treated well. That thought made her decision, "yes I am a witch. I admit it; I am in league with the devil."

"Good" Minister Parris said, "I am pleased that you have admitted the truth. Now we would like to know who your fellow witches are, don't bother with those we already know of, we want new names."

Mary's face went white, and then she looked around the court room, her eyes stopped at Lelana.

"The school teacher talks to the trees, she says they listen to her" she said in a trembling voice, Lelana Merrell is a witch."

Suddenly she was the focus of attention, as people ran to her.

"The teacher told us stories of the devil" Betty Parris said, "she told us that if we told, she would hurt us worse than any of the other witches.

"She is the lead witch?" Minister Parris asked. "I have had that unholy woman in my house, eating my food and all along she had been corrupting my children?"

"Yes uncle" Abigail agreed.

"The teacher taught us something called voodoo, sticking pins in dolls."

"Voodoo?"

"And she brought crystal balls to class, and taught us how to read tea leaves..

"Lelana Merrell isn't in league with the devil" Tituba said, "she is the devil."

-----------------------

In leg irons, she was led into a dank cell, and chained to the wall. And then with laughter, her jailors left, leaving her to examine her surroundings.

She was in a large room that was illuminated by one small barred window. She could just make out the dirty straw strewn on the floor, and the rats that ran through it.

She tried to breathe shallowly, but the tang of dirt, sweat and human excrement hit the back of her throat, making her feel light headed.

In the half light she could just make out the grimy faces of her fellow accused, those that were left. They too were chained, many to the walls, or the floor, one woman had her head chained to her feet, so she was constantly bent over.

"You will get used to it dear" a kindly voice said, and Lelana looked over to see Elizabeth Proctor, her belly big and round compared to the rest of her. What had once been a dress hung in rags of her, revealing scrawny legs, and too thin arms. Her eyes had shadows under them.

And still even in the environment she was in, she thought of another's discomfort.

"Welcome to hell" Abigail Hobbs croaked, "how are the demons that persecute us? Still doing the devils work I see."

Lelana nodded her head.

"So which one of them accused you then?"

"Mary Black."

"Mary Black?" Elizabeth sighed, "I thought she was on our side."

"Betty Parris accused her of being a witch, I suppose she thought if she admitted it, life would be better for her, and she isn't here so she was probably right."

"And they wanted her to accuse someone?" Abigail asked.

"She chose me."

"Arh, sadly it is the way of things in these dark days" Elizabeth commented.

Lelana was about to respond, but then a little voice interrupted, "mama?"

"Hush child" Elizabeth said to what Lelana had assumed to be a bundle of straw.

A little head moved to rest of the woman's lap, and chains clanking, Elizabeth stroked her hair.

"Mama?" big blue eyes looked at Lelana, ones filled with pain, "have you seen my mama?"

She didn't know what to say.

"Mama left, she isn't a weech anymore. When will she come and get me?"

No one answered her.

"I dreamt that the big girls came and hurt me again" she mumbled, "they pulled my hair, but I bit them, like I did last time."

"That's good Dorothy" Elizabeth murmured, "go back to sleep lovely."

Tears burned Lelana's eyes, "she thinks Sarah Good is free?"

"Well she is, isn't she?" Abigail said, "safe in the arms of Jesus, and away from those monsters that were once our friends and neighbours."

"Will I be in heaven soon?" Lelana wondered, as she contemplated what her fate would be.

----------------------

Her skin itching from flea bites, and raw from manacles, Lelana walked head high into the court room.

She was no longer afraid, didn't have anything to lose anymore. Her freedom was gone; she had been accused; now it was time to tell a few home truths.

"It's the devil" one of the girls shrieked, and then started to quietly laugh.

"Itchy, itchy" Abigail said.

"It must be those boils on your bum" Lelana said sarcastically as she was led past.

"Ow, Ow, she's hurting me" Ann Putnam shouted.

"Someone pulling your hair, like you pulled Dorothy's?" Lelana said as she sat down.

And stared accusingly at the girls.

"She's giving me the evil eye" Mercy Lewis screamed.

"The only evil eyes in this place are looking at me."

The girls didn't know how to respond, whatever they said didn't seem to upset their former teacher, in fact she just threw it back in their face, belittling them.

"She taught us how to cast spells" Mary Warren said.

"So you do spells do you?" Lelana sneered, "you just admitted it. Here did everyone hear, they just admitted to being witches."

"Hey teacher, we aren't the ones on trial here" Ann Putnam shouted.

"No I am, but only because of evil that resides in your souls."

"We are innocents!"

"Yeah right, and that's why you have horns growing out of your heads."

Lelana laughed when Abigail Williams put her hand up to feel her head.

"Order" the magistrate shouted, "will the condemned stop harassing the accusers."

"Condemned" a voice was heard to mutter, "she hasn't had her trial yet, how can she be condemned?"

"Sshh!" another voice hissed.

------------------------

"Do you admit to being a witch?"

"I am not, nor have I ever been a witch" she responded, and took a deep gulp of air, "but those that accuse, those that have sent innocent people to their deaths are just as guilty as any witch. If anyone is a witch, in the thrall of the devil, it is those girls."

"Why do you accuse the innocent?"

"Innocent? Those girls? No they are the evil here, not me, not those in prison, but they. They are the ones that should be sat here, they should be the ones going to trial."

"You are lying."

"I am the only one that dares to tell the truth. Everyone is too frightened to object, they are scared that the malevolence that inhabits those girls will seek them out. So they say nothing, as I said nothing."

""So you set yourself up as an angel of truth, when everyone here knows you are a demon of lies" Minister Parris shouted.

"It is you that are a demon of lies, and you allow your children to wallow in their evilness. You, a minister, should be ashamed of yourself."

"I, ashamed?" he laughed.

"Examine your heart, all of you think of what has happened, what you have made happen or allowed too. God is patient and kind, he has an infinite ability to forgive, but you have to repent."

"You dare to speak of God?"

"Repent Minister Parris, before you eternal soul is sent to damnation."

"It is your soul that is headed to hell, my conscience is clear."

"Then you need to pray that God convicts you anew, for what you are doing is very wrong. Girls" she looked at her former pupils, "you have to repent, before it is too late."

"I saw the teacher on the roof of the school house, jump of and fly" Abigail said to the smile of her uncle.

"Abigail, you need to repent."

---------------------

They put Lelana back in prison.

Everyday she heard her mother float through the small window, knew that she was paying for her incarceration, as all families had to do, and would probably be bringing her food.

Which the guards would eat.

Once a day she was released from her fetters, and allowed to sit down. She would drink her mug of warm water, picking out the scum that floated on the top and try to chew the hard dry hunch of bread she had been given.

But five minutes was all she got, and then she was chained up again.

And this was how it went. Days turned into weeks, weeks into a month and still she didn't know what her fate would be.

Many around her were taken, and didn't come back. She knew that they weren't coming back, they'd been hung. But their places were soon filled with other unfortunate victims.

Towards the end of October she was yet again called to court.

"How do you plead?" the magistrate asked again.

"I am innocent, like I told you last time. It is not I that am in league with the devil it is those who support the persecution of the innocent people that are in prison, or dead in shallow unconsecrated graves."

"Enough! Your disrespect for this court of law is shocking. We shall see if you are a witch ourselves."

Lelana frowned, "how?" she asked, her voice trembling.

The man smirked, and then said "you will be tied to a dunking stool, which will then be lowered into a fast flowing part of the river. We will say the Lord's Prayer three times and then you will be pulled up. If you have survived, we will know you are a witch."

"But I will drown."

"If you drown we will know you are innocent of the crime of witch craft."

"What good is that to me, if I am dead?"

He shrugged, "not my problem."

She was led out into the cold blustery day, but it wasn't wintry enough that she could hope that the river would be frozen.

They led her to the river, and tied her to a prepared dunking stool. Then it was levered out over the river.

Lelana stared at the foaming water under her feet. Icy splashes flew up at her legs, giving her no illusions on how cold the water was.

And then they started to lower her.

Her feet were now in the water, as was her legs, and half her body.

She could hear nothing but the roaring of the water.

"Stop!" a loud voice managed to make itself heard over the river. The stool sunk a little lower.

"Pull her up!"

The water was now hitting her face; she wasn't submerged but was getting perilously cold.

"You have no authority here" she vaguely heard the magistrate say.

"Under the orders Governor Phips the Court of Oyer and Terminer is hereby dissolved. It is you that has no authority here."

A few seconds passed by, and then again she heard slightly louder this time, "pull her up, and do it now!"

Slowly she felt the dunking move upwards, water poured out of her clothes, the material weighting her down so heavily that if she hadn't been strapped in, she would have fallen into the roaring water.

By the time she reached the bank of the river, she was shivering and her teeth were chattering.

"Take her somewhere warm" the man ordered, "for from the blue of her lips, I fear she will expire from the cold."

Lelana turned her head towards the voice, and saw a young man. And next to him, already running towards her was a woman.

She collapsed unconscious into her mother's arms.

--------------------

Even though she had spent weeks in prison, and undergone the deprivation there, Lelana was a strong girl. With a warm fire, dry clothes and hot food in her stomach, she was soon feeling much better.

And the night she was allowed to spend in a soft bed helped even more.

But despite all that had happened, and how she had been abused, she had still been accused of a crime, and would have to be tried.

So back to prison she went.

But the official had been busy in her absence, and the large cell was cleaner now, and the inhabitants were no longer chained. They were now allowed the food their relatives brought in for them, and had been given worn, but patched clothing to cover their nakedness that their old things, rags as they had become, were not able to do.

And so it was to this slightly better prison, that Elizabeth Proctor went into labour.

"Can she not go somewhere else to have her baby?" she begged the guards, ever mindful that men and children were in the cell.

The guards refused, gleeful that now they couldn't steal their food, there was still something they could do to make life hard for the prisoners.

By the time the official came to see how things were in the prison, it was too late. She was too advanced in labour to move.

But he provided clean blankets, and hot water.

"Have you got any willow bark?"

He frowned, "only witches use willow bark."

"No they don't, healers use it, not witches. I am a healer, from a long line of healers, you might like to call me an unqualified doctor or nurse. Ask any doctor if he uses willow bark to ease pain and many will tell you they do."

"Okay, but where will I find some willow bark. You don't expect me to take a knife to a tree do you?"

"No" she held back the laughter that threatened at the thought of him tramping through a wood with a knife, and mud all over his silk clothing. "Ask my mother."

Within no time, the official was back, Lelana's mother with him, and together the two women helped Elizabeth Proctor bring her child into the world.

-----------------------

One by one, the prisoners were taken back to court, and never came back. Lelana thought that they had been hung first of all, until the official had come to see her, and told her that they had been released.

He also brought her things, knowing that the guards were corrupt.

In the middle of December, he came and told her that her trial had been set for two days time.

As she bit into a fresh hunch of bread, she said "thank you."

"What for?" he asked, "the bread or the trial date?"

"For both" she grinned, crumbs falling from her mouth.

Gently he brushed one of the crumbs off her chin.

"Lelana?"

"What?" She looked closely at him, and saw he was blushing.

"Lelana, I really like………."

"NO" she shouted, "not here! Please don't say such things in here! Save what you want to say until I am……….."

"Until you are free?"

"Yes."

He nodded, "that is what I will do then. But do you not even want to know my name? I have been coming to see you for weeks now, and all you know is my surname."

She blinked, "Mister Kingham, what is your first name?" she smiled.

"My name is Anthony."

"Well it is nice to meet you Anthony Kingham, though I wish it was in better surrounding than this."

"Soon Lelana, soon" he promised.

------------------

When people started to be released, Lelana had hoped that the little girl Dorothy would be too.

But as each prisoner had to pay for the honour of remaining in prison, so they had to pay to get out.

And Dorothy's father, destitute as he was, had found it hard to find the money.

But the morning of Lelana's trial they came for the little girl, who kicked and screamed in terror, and then fell into a stupor.

"That one is never going to be the same" Abigail Hobbs commented, "these months have been so hard on her little mind, I don't think there is much left.

And Lelana could only nod her head, for it was true.

---------------------

It was her turn, she breathed in the cool air of December as she was led to what used to be her place of work. She revelled on the feel of the icy wind on her flesh.

When she entered the building, the girls were there.

They stared defiantly at her, and smirked.

"The teacher isn't a witch, she is the devil" one of them pronounced, "she shouldn't be getting another trial, she should be burned."

"The teacher made my tooth ache" Abigail pointed to her swollen mouth.

One of the girls shoved Abigail, and told her to shut up.

"I saw the teacher flying over the court room this morning" Mercy Lewis uttered.

"Hush" Governor Phips shouted, "we will have no more spectral evidence, it is all lies and suppositions."

"Lelana Merrell has enticed the court to believe that she and the other witches aren't in league with demons" Ann Putnam said.

"Be quiet or I will hold you all in contempt of court."

"Lelana….."

"No" he pointed at them, "you should feel lucky that it isn't you all up here being tried, you are the cause of many innocent deaths."

Ann Putnam opened her mouth, but closed it again when she saw how he frowned at her.

The Governor turned to Lelana, who was now sat in the seat of the accused. "How do you plead?"

"I am innocent."

"Are there any witnesses to prove that she is a witch?"

"I saw…………" Abigail started.

"Out!" he roared, "get out of this courtroom now, and then think on all the evil you have done."

Abigail slumped away.

"Real witnesses?" he asked again.

"Urhhhh" a man cleared his throat, "I don't know if it is evidence, but my wife, Mary Bradbury, was there when Elizabeth Proctor gave birth. She said that the defendant gave her willow bark and said she was a healer."

The governor turned to Lelana, "is that true?"

"I am a healer, and use nature to help others."

"So she is a witch?" Ann Putnam's eyes gleamed.

"Many doctors use willow bark to help people with pain" Lelana defended herself, "just because I use herbs to heal doesn't make me a witch."

The governor contemplated this, "I think we should call for a doctor to tell us if that is true. My private physician is a good man, and has had nothing to do with the travesty that has been going on this last year. Can someone ride out to my home, and fetch him?"

----------------------

While they were waiting, Lelana was given a mug of spring water, and a bowl of stew, she wasn't as hungry as she had been, after all since the dunking, the food her mother brought had been getting to her. But this final hurdle, was still hard going and she was thankful of the nourishing food, doubly so when she recognised her mother's subtle seasoning.

She looked for her parents, she had been too scared earlier to do so, and saw them at the back of the court.

They were smiling encouragingly at her.

"Mama" she mumbled, half under her breath.

"Pardon" Anthony looked down at her, and smiled, "what did you say?"

"Nothing" she grinned, "my parents are here."

"I know, I went and fetched them this morning."

She looked up at him now, "thank you" she said through tears.

"I am your friend, and always have your welfare in my thoughts" he said simply.

-------------------

The doctor was back. Lelana gulped when she saw him, he was one of the best physicians in Boston.

And though she had never met him, he was known as a hard but good and fair man.

"The defendant confesses to being a healer. She used willow bark to help a labouring woman. She says that is what doctors use too."

"Does she?" the doctor murmured and then turned to her, "why did you use willow bark my dear?"

"It helps deaden the pain."

"And is that your only knowledge of herbs, or do you have more?"

"I have more."

"I see, and would you care to enlighten us as to your knowledge?"

"Willow bark for pain, Arnica will bring down a swelling, Hyssop helps if someone is having trouble breathing, drinking a tea of marjoram every day will keep pests at bay, Yarrow is another good pain killer, Chamomile makes a good wash for a wound, and is good for digestion, Pokeweed helps alleviate arthritis………….."

"You do know your herbs."

Lelana thought she could see a small spark of admiration in his eyes.

"Healing has long been a work that just doctors do" he started to say, "but I am of the school of the herbalist Nicholas Culpepper, who wrote books that gave the masses the ability to heal themselves. Having a knowledge of herbs does not make someone in league with the devil, unless you want to accuse all doctors and herbalist?"

"No, no" the governor smiled, "I don't believe that you are a wizard."

And never is this woman a witch, she is a healer, and a very good one I would say."

"Is there any more witnesses?"

"I saw………….."

The governor glared at the girls, "anymore credible witnesses?"

Silence filled the court.

The governor looked at Lelana, "no one accuses you, and neither do I. You are not a witch, or in the snare of the devil. Case dismissed. You are free to go."

Relief flooded Lelana, and she fell into the arms of her parents who were suddenly there.

And in the background she saw Anthony Kingham, who smiled at her.

She grinned back.

---------------------------

Before them is set their future

Before them is set their future,

but it is not for us to see,

they might still get to the altar.

He would give a ring of amber,

and make her joyful and happy,

before them is set their future.

A question requires an answer,

love needs to be treated fondly,

they might still get to the altar.

A moment for which he's eager,

sends for a man of the clergy,

before them is set their future.

No one could ever be finer,

in a white dress, she'd be lovely,

they might still get to the altar.

For marriage he is ready,

And babies to sit on each knee,

before them is set their future,

they might still get to the altar.

------------------------

Line of the Healer women

Ayla,

Kayla, Icaya,

Isala,

Misala, Emala,

Fenala,

Fleisha, Forsha,

Thora,

Tiana, Tana,

Dana,

Dalia, Delania,

Lelana,

Like this drama?

Leticia.


	17. Leliana, 1711AD

Leliana 1711AD

Everyone was so busy preparing for the journey to find the source of the river Neuse that no one noticed the girl, dressed as a boy, slip into the group of men and boys waiting to set off.

Leliana had wanted to join the expedition organised by John Lawson as soon as she had heard about it.

She had always been a wilful child, her mother had often shaken her head at her, and said "in my day………"

Of course in her day, she had lived in Boston. Leliana's grandparents had moved there after travelling from the old world, and her mother had been their first child born in America. They had spent many long years there until the witch trials in Salem that her mother had been caught up in.

When Leliana's father had proposed, he had taken her and her parents to a new place.

To North Carolina.

Far away from religious doctrines that would allow innocent people to be murdered.

This was a land of hope, of new life.

This was where Leliana had grown up and had learnt her wilfulness from other young people like her.

And now at the tender age of fifteen she was about to embark on an adventure.

Though it would be a lot bigger than she expected.

--------------------

"That pannier needs tightening" John Lawson was going around checking they were ready.

He came up behind her, and she tensed when he stopped and looked at her.

"Your pack is too loose lad" he told her, "here let me help you tighten it."

Once he had gone, Leliana let out her breathe, relieved that he hadn't realised that she wasn't what she appeared to be.

"Okay men, let's get going" she heard him shout.

Even at that point, she was worried that her mother was going to run up to them or that her father would see her and drag her away.

But that didn't happen, they were there to say goodbye to the expedition, but through avoiding eye contact they didn't recognise her.

She just hoped they wouldn't be too upset when they read the note she had left.

-------------------

After walking all day, the last hours through mud, Leliana was glad when it was time to stop for the night. She tiredly ate her supper, and then after laying her bedding out on the ground, fell into it, and was asleep before her head hardly hit her rolled up blanket.

She was woken in the middle of the night, a rude shove, and she sleepily stared out at the star lit night in confusion.

"It's your turn for the watch" a gruff voice informed her.

"I don't want a watch" she mumbled, and tried to turn over.

A kick to her ribs made her instantly awake.

"Get up now" a voice hissed in her ear, "it is your turn to be on watch, or do you want a little Indian to sneak up on your and scalp you?

She shook her head, and mumbled "no. Then glad that she had cut her hair into a more manly style before she had left, stuffed the rest into her hat, and carrying her boots rushed over to the lookout post.

"Nice for you to join us" a man's voice drawled, "pretty little toes you have got there" he pointed at her feet.

She quickly put her boots on, and sat down. "What time is it?" she yawned.

"What, not used to be up so late are we not baby?" he made fun of her.

She ignored him, and yawned again.

"Yep it's past baby's bedtime."

"I'm not a baby!"

The man laughed, "I am only teasing you." He smiled and smacked her on the back, "you must be man enough to be on this journey. After all we will be travelling through Indian land."

"Indian? But I thought………he said scalped but……….." she shook her head, "oh never mind."

The man squinted, "you did know we would be travelling through Indian land?"

"Yes of course" she lied.

-----------------------

The next day they continued travelling up the Neuse River. John Lawson and Christopher von Graffenreid rode ahead on horses, while the rest of the men, and Leliana, walked behind, leading the donkeys that carried their supplies.

Even as far back as she was, she could hear the strident voice of John Lawson pointing out aspects of their journey while Christopher von Graffenreid wheedle voice asked questions.

"Sounds a right one doesn't he lad?" the man she had shared the watch with the night before commented.

She frowned, wondering who he was talking about.

"That Graffenreid fellow."

"Oh" she responded, but didn't say anything else.

"He was bossing everyone around this morning."

"Well, he is bankrolling a lot of this journey" she stuck up for the man she didn't know.

"I suppose" he said, but he didn't look convinced.

----------------------

By the time a week had passed they were making good headway, and still hadn't realised that she was a girl.

Thankfully.

They stopped at noon, and ate a light lunch. And then started again.

As they walked along a particularly treacherous part of the bank, that was a sheer drop to the river on one side, and brambles on the other, leaving a narrow path, they only concentrated on that.

They didn't take any notice of their surroundings.

And they didn't become aware of the Indians before it was too late.

-----------------

She ran, grateful that she didn't have her normal skirts that would have hampered her flight, she try to flee from the Indians.

But she wasn't fast enough.

An arrow thudded into a tree to the right of her. She was inches from it.

She shrieked, and started to cry out in terror.

One of the Indians rode alongside her and reaching down grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his horse.

She stared at his face, hollows in his cheeks evident beneath the war paint.

"Let me go" she screamed.

And the Indian smiled, "I think we have caught ourselves a woman" he shouted in English to the others, pulling off her hat to reveal her blonde hair.

She bit down on his hand, and struggled to get away, but he just increased his hold on her.

"Such pretty hair" he murmured in her ear.

No one escaped them; the whites were soon all rounded up, and taken to the Indians' camp. They were put in a wigwam, and a woman came and gave them water.

"I'm not staying here" she said, and pulled back a hide flap. An Indian grinned at her.

Sinking back on her heels, she realised that there was no escape.

"Are you really a woman?" a young lad whispered to her, "or were they joking?"

She shook her head.

"I knew you were to pretty to be a boy" her fellow guard said, "whatever your name is, how could you have been so stupid?"

"My name is Leliana" she almost spat, "Leliana Kingham."

-------------------

"These heathens have no right to take us captive" John Lawson grumbled. "We are their betters, they could learn so much from us, but instead they attack us."

"Hush" Christopher von Graffenreid said, showing more sense than anyone before would have thought him capable of.

"They are just stupid primitives, I mean look at the way they live, in animal skins."

"Don't antagonise them."

"And the way they dress, shocking, don't they know how to cover up?"

Graffenreid shook his head, and looked worryingly towards the flap of the wigwam.

"And did you see that woman who brought us water, yuck she was pig ugly. But then they are all revolting anyway. Greasy little people, who should be taken of this land, so it could be given to those who deserve it."

"Well they think that it is theirs."

"This land belongs to God, and his people. Those Indians out there should learn that they are not part of God's will, and get out the way to make way for those who are."

Leliana could stand it no longer, "are you stupid?" she accused, "they can hear every word you say, and many of them will know our language."

"I seriously doubt that, they are too unintelligent to learn the masterful English."

"Oh believe me, they know it alright. They can understand everything we say, but they also have their own language, one that none of us know, so who is the stupid ones now?"

John Lawson started to cough, "you can't seriously think that I would want to learn to speak their words do you? I have heard Indians in the past; they mumble a load of ridiculous words, for all we know they are calling on the devil. I believe they are servants of his anyway, therefore they are scum and need to be removed from our lands."

Leliana shook her head in consternation, she couldn't believe that the man she had worshipped, who she had listen to talk about finding the source of the Neuse, was the same man who sat in front of her now. Because this man was belligerent, ignorant and extremely foolish.

----------------------

A man came into the wigwam, his skin was golden like the other Indians but he had blue eyes.

"I am Setimika Charging Bear" he looked at everyone.

Just for a moment, Leliana could have sworn that his eyes settled on her, but then they shifted as John Lawson started to moan.

"It has been hours since we were brought here" he whined, "why haven't we seen the chief yet. Does he not know how important we are?"

Setimika sighed, "yes he had heard you talking about how dissatisfied you are already. You really should keep quiet, what you say is only going to try him and make him angry.

"He'll be angry?" John Lawson roared, "I am furious and I don't need advice from a primitive like you. Especially from one who obviously has white blood in them, and are a traitor to their kind."

He didn't say anything else for the young man in a blur of motion had moved behind him, and now held a knife to his throat, "shut up" he hissed, "before you get yourself and your travelling companions killed."

"Listen to him John" Christopher von Graffenreid urged.

"Yes, listen to me" Setimika copied, "I am all that stands between you and death. Our Chief wants to kill you all, after the way the white people have treated our people, that would be what you all deserve, but I am trying to get him to be more forgiving. You ranting and raving in here does not help."

"We deserve to die" John Lawson blustered, not listening to sense, "after what white people have done to Indians? What utter rot, we haven't done anything; it is the Indians that are the ones in the wrong."

"What about the Indians that have been stolen by whites?"

"They have been given better lives than wandering around in forests. They will get to have proper lives, wear decent clothes, and do something useful which they would have never have got living in an animal skin like this one."

"Who are you to say that your way of life is better than ours?"

"It doesn't matter who I am, though I am an important man. Our way of life is just better than yours. We are civilised whereas you are savages."

"Well if that is the way you think, then I assume you don't want the protection of a savage. But I will do all I can to defend the others here. Now the Chief wants to talk to the leaders of your group."

Leliana watched as John Lawson, Christopher von Graffenreid and the governor of New Bern, Edward Hyde followed Setimika out of the wigwam.

-------------------------

They were gone for hours, in the meantime food was brought in, that Leliana tried her hardest to enjoy, showing grace in the face of terror.

But when the men returned, they were one missing.

"That idiot has been mocking the Indians so much, they have him tied up outside" Governor Hyde said.

"All you men are going to be able to go free, to make their way back to their homes as best as they can" Setimika said, "except that belligerent man, he is to die."

"Die?"

"Hush!" Christopher von Graffenreid urged, "just be thankful they are letting you free. If you argue, they might give you the same punishment as Lawson."

Leliana slowly put her hand in the air, she didn't want to cause trouble, didn't want to suffer the same fate as the man condemned to die, but something Setimika had said worried her. Her voice trembled a bit as she talked, "you said that all the men are going to go free, does that include me?"

He looked at her, "you are a woman, though our own females are quite capable of looking after themselves, I don't think you are. I will take you back to your people to make sure you are safe. But I can't leave for some time."

"No! No! No!" the Governor said, "that is not acceptable. She will come with us."

Setimika stared at him, "you are not in control here, we are. Plus she will be much safer with a savage, who has weapons, that a white man who has nothing."

-----------------------

"John Lawson is dead" Setimika declared later on that evening. "His was cut in various places around his body that would bleed profusely, then he was hung, and finally set on fire."

"Oh that is horrible" Leliana started to cry, "how could you have."

"I did all I could to save him, but in the end his behaviour made it impossible." He looked sadly at her, "I would not have given him such an end, I would have saved him, but the Indians are so angry they have become cruel."

"But……………"

"But the whites need to take notice that the Indians will not allow themselves to be treated badly anymore, because in the end the execution of John Lawson will seem nothing compared to what is to come."

"What??!!"

"I have said enough, it is time for the men to be released."

----------------------

She watched as the last of the men disappeared through the trees. She wondered if any of them would manage to make it home, and if she would ever see them again.

She wiped a tear that trickled down her cheek, and turned to the man stood next to her, "will they be okay?"

Setimika looked down at her, "some of our braves have been sent to follow them to make sure they get to their destination in one piece."

She nodded, and then as her brain started to work said "so if that is the case, I could have gone with them."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because that is the way it is going to be. Now follow me, I will take you to the wigwam you will be staying in."

She stood still, and stared at him and said in an argumentative voice, "no!"

She turned around, and stalked back to her, "no!" his eyes burned into hers, "you said no."

Defiantly she replied in the affirmative. "What are you going to do about it?"

She saw his eyes move to where the ground was bloodied and scorched.

"Are you going to have be executed too if I disobey you?"

"You will not die for being stroppy, what he did was so much more."

"Well then I will stay here."

"I don't think so" he said, and picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

"Let me down" she shrieked as he took her to a shelter.

-----------------------

Her eyes took some time to acclimatise themselves to the gloom in the wigwam, what light there was came through a smoke hole. It filtered onto the grey head of a woman. She was busy stirring a pot of what looked like stew.

The smell of delicious meat wafted over to her.

"This is my mother" he told her.

"Seti, can you see the girl is frightened out of her wits? What do you think you are doing carrying her in like that?"

Leliana frowned, something about the woman's accent didn't sound right. She looked closer at her, and could detect red strands in the hair plaited down her back. She also noted that green eyes were staring at her son accusingly.

He grinned at her back, "Mother, your temper has got even worse since your hair lost its fiery tones." And he hugged her.

"So what is your name my dear?"

"Leliana."

"Well I am Aislyn Kelly, and you have obviously met my son."

"Kelly? Isn't that an Irish name?"

"And from good Irish stock I come, my Dar came over to these lands when he was a young lad. Never been to Ireland myself, always wanted to growing up. The stories he would tell. But to be quite honest I have found much of the beauty he told of right here with these Indians. I am proud to be an Indian woman."

"But isn't life strange?"

"I have lived here since I was your age. I fell in love with Seti's father and let my heart lead me. I have lived a wonderful life, well until he was killed."

"Killed?"

"He was murdered when those that used to be the people I grew up with raided our village, and stole many of our children. He tried to protect our daughter, only fourteen years old, but it was useless, he couldn't do anything to stop them except give his life."

"What happened to her?" she almost whispered this question.

"They took her, tried to sell her, but my father managed to save her. They listened to him, as they wouldn't to my mate and his white woman. But it wasn't until after they………….."

Leliana gasped in shock, "they raped her?"

"Yes they did" Setimika said, "now you know why our people hate the white. Why we are fed up with being treated so. She was an innocent, now it is like she is a ghost. She wanders around, never looking anyone in the eye. She is frightened of her own shadow."

"I'm sorry."

"But it wasn't your fault" Aislyn said. "And I won't have my son treating you the same way. He is not a savage, and will treat you like we would have liked the white men to have treated his sister, with respect."

And with that Setimika left, and Leliana was enveloped in the warmth of the Indian/ Irish woman.

----------------------

"Come closer dear, let me look at you" Aislyn asked of her.

Leliana stepped forward.

"You are a beauty, my son said you were, but those clothes don't do you any justice. Why are you wearing men's clothing?"

"I snuck into the expedition; I would never had been allowed to go otherwise."

"Oh, an adventurous spirit" Aislyn smiled, "just like me."

"How long am I going to be here?" she asked, getting straight to business.

"Oh, I don't know. My son is an important man, and very busy. He will take you as soon as he is ready."

"And what is he doing that could be more important that taking me home?"

"My dear" the older woman wiped a tear from her eye, "he is trying to stop our people going to war against yours."

"War?!!!"

"Yes, unfortunately, the Tuscarora people are very angry; he is trying to reason with them."

"But surely they are not mad enough to go to war? They must know that whatever they do, the white people will hit them back ten times more?"

"That is very true" Aislyn said sadly, "but some whites will be lost first."

"Where are they going to attack?"

"They are going to attack many white settlements all at once."

"And New Bern?"

But she didn't need to hear the answer, she already knew.

"My parents!!"

-------------------

As soon as Setimika walked into the wigwam the next morning, Leliana was at him.

"You can't go to war."

"What?" He was astounded to have what seemed like a wild cat ram into him.

"You have to warn them. People will die, my parents will die" he voice was getting higher and higher and more hysterical. She grabbed the front of his tunic, "please you have to stop it. Please, my family have been so much already. My grandparents survived the plague in England and came over here to make a new life, and my mother was one of the women accused of being witches in Salem. They can't be part of an Indian massacre as well. It isn't' fair, they don't deserve that."

"And do our people deserve to be treated as rubbish? To be sold to the highest bidder, taken away from all they know?"

"No" she shook her head, "of course not. But it isn't all the whites that at are subjugating the Indians, why do we all have to be punished for the crimes of the few?"

Setimika sighed, "I don't want anyone to be hurt, that is not the way that my mother brought me up."

"But still you allow………….."

"Allow? If you could know how much I have argued with the Chief, putting my life on the line, and my home too."

"But you are partly white."

"And partly Indian. I am in the position that I can see both sides of the problems, but ultimately I see that the whites are the aggressors, and the Indians are the victims."

"But they will be bigger victims if they carry out this war, they might slaughter some, but the soldiers will come, and then they will be made to pay."

"And I have told the Chief that, but he refuses to listen."

"So there is no hope?"

"There is always hope" he gently caught a tear that was falling down her face. "I can't protect New Bern, what is going to happen, will happen. But I will do all I can to help your parents."

------------------------

"While you stay with us, you will be treated like any other woman of our tribe" Aislyn told her, "I had to learn and so will you."

"But I won't be staying long."

"Maybe not, but you can make yourself useful. But first I think it is time we got you looking like a woman again, follow me."

"Where to?"

"It is time you had a bath."

Leliana thought of how it felt to have warm water lap her skin, she smiled in recollection, "where is the bath house?" she asked.

Aislyn smirked at her, "this way" she responded.

Leliana followed the woman, but she didn't lead her to another wigwam, but to the edge of a river.

"I thought I was going to have a bath."

Aislyn nodded, and then started to laugh, "and your bath water awaits you my lady." She swept a hand to indicate the flowing water.

"But…………."

"But life is different here Leliana, there are no warm baths filled by servants, we wash ourselves in the river."

"Everyone will see!"

"No one is looking."

Leliana glanced around, it seemed that no one was watching her, but she wasn't convinced. She took of her shoes, and put one toe in the water.

"It's cold."

"It is" was the only response she got and a steely gaze that left her under no illusion that she had no choice but to immerse herself in the river water.

She took a step in.

"Take of your clothes."

Leliana stared in horror at the older woman.

"You have to take them off, or the weight of them will weigh you down, and the current could take you."

Leliana nodded, she could see the sense in that, but still didn't want to take of her clothes.

"Can't I just wash my face and hands?"

"No, take your clothes off now."

"But…………"

"Now, or do I have to take them off for you."

Leliana sighed and started to undue the buttons of the shirt she was wearing; she peeled it away from her skin, and looked at it.

"Uh, that is revolting" she noticed the sweat and dirt stains that covered it. She put it to her nose and timidly smelt, "pooh that is horrible."

"Well that is how you smell my dear. That is why you need to have a bath."

"Okay" she responded and took of the trousers. Her underwear had seen better days and instead of its usual snowy white was brown and yellow.

"I will take them of while I am washing" she said to herself, and walked into the cold streaming water.

Her body soon became acclimatised to the cold, so she didn't feel it anymore.

"What about soap?" she shouted to Aislyn.

"Our people make their own; I have a bowl with some here. If you come out of the water I will help you lather up.

She still wore the underclothes, though climbing out of the water, it was like she didn't. Blushing she pulled on the material trying to disguise her body.

Aislyn either didn't notice, or didn't say anything, but quickly helped Leliana lather her long hair, and her back, leaving her to sort out the more private areas of her body.

Then she entered the water again.

She took off her underwear and tried to get the stains out.

"It's impossible dear" Aislyn's voice floated over the water, "believe me, I tried too when I first came and lived here, but I soon realised that I was free of the western way of things, including their underwear."

"What will I wear?"

"Indian clothes" she responded, "now it is time you got out. I have a soft chamois for you to dry yourself on."

------------------------

Leliana stared down at the fringe beaded tunic, and leggings she wore. The clothes were so different to what she was used to.

And she loved the freedom.

"Okay" Aislyn said, "sit down and I will comb your hair."

Gently the women pulled a wooden comb through her hair, detangling by hand the knots that were too thick. Finally her blonde hair hung loosely around her shoulders, soft and clean.

Aislyn started to plait it, starting at the top of her head, she wove the strands of hair together to form two fat plaits.

"All I need now is some feathers" she giggled, and then stopped when she saw the older woman frown, "sorry."

Aislyn didn't respond but just handed her some moccasins. "You are ready to do some work now" she said.

-----------------------

Aislyn led her to the other side of the settlement, to a small wigwam that was occupied by many Indian women.

"Have you ever weaved baskets before?" she asked of Leliana.

Leliana hadn't.

"Okay, sit down next to Talisa, and we will teach you."

She watched at the Indian woman's hand expertly wove dyed straw together.

"Our people have always woven our own baskets" Talisa explained.

Leliana picked up some straw, how do you get these colours?" she asked.

"The colours come from nature" Talisa pointed to some red coloured straw, "we use the blood of a beetle to make the straw red."

Leliana spent the next hour learning this basic skill, but then Aislyn called her away.

"The men have come back from hunting. We need to prepare what they have killed. Have you ever skinned an animal?"

"My father taught me to hunt when I was a small child. I have grown up skinning small animals."

"But have you ever skinned a buffalo?"

"No" her voice squeaked out.

"Well you will learn today. It is a messy job."

They spent the rest of the day with the carcass, eventually have a rolled up hide to work on the next day, a pot of stew simmering over a fire, and meat drying near it.

Leliana looked at her red arms, "I think I need another bath."

-------------------------

The next day Aislyn got her up bright and early to work on the skin. As she walked out of the wigwam she saw Talisa wave at her. She smiled back.

"Okay I am busy today so I won't be able to work on the hide with you. My daughter, Seti's sister is coming to help you instead. You have heard what happened to her, so you will know why she is so quiet."

Leliana nodded her head, her heart going out to the girl she was about to meet.

"Arh, here she is."

She looked up to see a frail young woman walking towards them. She wore a sad look on her face, and her green eyes held more pain within them that should ever be allowed.

"This is Leliana" Aislyn told her daughter, "this is Ailini."

"Hello" Ailini said, and then immediately started to unroll the hide.

"That is a beautiful name."

Ailini smiled sadly, "thank you" she responded.

"I will see you later" Aislyn said, and nodded towards her daughter, "she really needs a friend."

Leliana watched the older woman walk away, and then held her breath for a moment, as she thought about the best way to communicate with the girl. As she let it out, she realised that the best way was to be natural, and interested in what she had to say or show.

"I have never worked on such a large hide" she said, "will you show me how to do so."

She could see a glint of something in the girl's eyes, perhaps hope.

"I would like that."

They put stones around the hide to hold it down, and the Ailini pulled out a scraper and started to get rid of the blood vessels and fat. She gave another one to Leliana.

Side by side they worked silently, and slowly as the day progressed they became friends.

Finally the hide was finished and left on a rock to dry in the sunlight.

"Leliana come swimming" Ailini smiled hopefully.

-----------------------

Over the next days and weeks the two girls grew close and Ailini started coming out of the shell the abduction and rape had put her in.

Aislyn was starting to see the girl she had brought up again and because of that she would be eternally thankful to Leliana.

Setimika had been away for much of this time, trying to convince other tribes that going to war against the whites was not a good idea.

So when he got back, it was to a very different sister.

One who on seeing him, ran to him and hugged him. Something she hadn't done for a long time.

He swung her around in exuberance, "little sister I have missed you" he laughed, referring to not just when he had been away but when she had withdrawn herself from what happened around her.

"I have a friend" she grinned.

He looked over and saw Leliana standing shyly by a wigwam.

"Thank you" he mouthed.

---------------------

"Mother we are definitely going to war" Setimika told his mother late that night.

She glanced over to the sleeping form of Leliana, "she is not going to like that."

"Neither do I" he admitted, "and I promised that I would help her family if war did come."

Aislyn sighed, "when are you going?"

Startled he looked at her, "how do you know?"

"You are my son; I can read you like a book. So I ask again when are you going?"

"Tonight" he answered, "soon, I have a few things to do. Mother, I need…………"

she leant forward, "you need white man clothes?"

he nodded.

"Go, do what you have to, and then come back. I will have clothes ready."

"Thank you mother" he slipped away into the night.

About a half hour later he was back.

Aislyn gave him a package, "the clothes are old, they were my father's, but they are still serviceable."

"They will do. I just need to be able to disguise myself as one of them."

She smiled, "my dear son, in a way, you are one of them, at least half anyway. You embody all that is good amidst the whites."

He kissed her.

"don't put them on until you are well clear of here, if the others see you in white man's clothes they will think you have betrayed them."

"And in a way I am doing just that" his eyes hardened.

"You are betraying no one, from what Leliana has told me, her parents are good people, you by helping them are just sticking up for what is right and true."

"Mother you always know what to say?"

"Where will you take them?"

Setimika shook his head, "I don't know, not here that is for sure, and not to any of the other towns around New Bern, I have to get them out of the area."

"You will be gone some time?"

"Yes."

"Will you come back for Leliana when they are safe and take her to them?"

He frowned, "I suppose" but he hesitated, "but to be quite honest mother I don't want to take her anywhere. I want to keep her here with you and Ailini, I want…………."

"I know what you want Seti, I saw it in your eyes when you first brought her to me, but you have to ask yourself, is that what she wants?"

"I don't know" he admitted.

"You can only keep her here so long, one day you are going to have to let her have her freedom. If you and she are meant to be, then she will refuse to go. But you have to let her decide."

"I know, but not yet" he kissed her cheek again, "I should be back in a week or so. Look after her until then."

"Of course I will, she is like a daughter to me already."

---------------

Leliana skimmed a stone across the river. She had heard every word Setimika had said the night before, she had only been pretending to sleep.

She was ecstatic that he was going to help her parents, and had nearly jumped up and hugged him.

But she was glad she hadn't when he had started to say how he wanted her to stay where she was, that he didn't want her to leave.

And she had realised as much from the tone of his voice as the words that he spoke that he had deep emotions for her.

She just wished she knew how she felt about him, she thought of him as handsome, but a life partner? She didn't know.

And so she sat, and tried to sort out her feelings.

---------------------

"Oh look at the little white girl" a voice sneered nearby.

"She shouldn't be here; she doesn't belong with us Indians."

"She will scalp us in our beds!"

The girls, for that was who they were, started to laugh at the thought.

Leliana looked up and frowned.

"Hey the whitey is looking at us!"

"Urh, she has blue eyes."

"And her hair looks like dry corn" another tried to insult.

"Leave her alone!" a voice shouted, and a body joined it.

"Ailini, she is nothing but trouble. Why are you trying to protect her? Look at what the whites did to you."

"I know better than you what the whites did to me" she hissed, "but not this girl. She has been nothing but kindness to me. She is my friend."

"You are friends with a whitey?"

"Yuck, you will get fleas."

"Hey girls; it seems our little Ailini is embracing her whitey roots."

"Whitey" they shouted at them, and then ran off screaming with laughter.

-----------------------

In the middle of the night as she was snug in her sleep, she was awoken by a commotion outside the wigwam.

Blearily eyed, she looked out of the hide flap to see a group of people carrying something.

A woman was crying.

And a girl was moaning with pain.

"What's happening?" she asked when she saw Aislyn.

"Go back to bed; it is nothing you need to worry yourself about."

"But someone is hurt."

"Yes, some of the girls decided to go swimming in the dark, one of them fell and cut her head badly on the rocks as well as breaking her leg" she sighed, "but like I said you should go back to bed."

"But I could help!"

"Leliana, she needs a healer, though for the time being she will have to cope with me. Our healer has gone to visit another tribe."

"I can help, I am a healer."

"Leliana, she needs someone with experience. Someone who knows what they are doing."

Leliana stepped out into the moonlight and drew herself up to her full height, "my mother is a healer, and my grandmother, they have taught me all I know."

"From my experience the healers of our people have no idea what they are doing. They rely on medieval practises that have no place in the modern world."

"But sometimes the old ways of healing are the best, not those of superstition but using herbs and plants the way God intended."

"So what would you suggest then?" Aislyn had decided to test her.

"I would give her a tea of willow bark for the pain first, and then………"

"I don't want that whitey touching me!"

Leliana looked at the girl who was being carried; she was the ringleader of the group that had been abusing her.

She gulped down her pride, "I can help, if you let me" she said this to Aislyn.

The older woman stared into her eyes as if she was searching out the truth and then nodded, "take her into my wigwam and do whatever Leliana says."

"No, don't let her touch me, she will hurt me" the injured girl moaned.

"She will help you" Aislyn told her.

"But you don't understand, she will hurt me to get her revenge."

Aislyn squinted down at the girl, "why would she want to get revenge?"

"Because her and her cronies have been calling her names" Ailini joined the conversation, "and now she who she bullied wants to help her."

"So you feel guilty?" Aislyn asked.

"No, I don't" the girl hissed through her pain, "she is a whitey; she isn't one of our own. She is the enemy, she shouldn't be here."

Aislyn sighed, "she isn't your enemy, and she is a better person than you, she wants to heal while you just want to hurt."

"That is not the Indian way" a woman intoned.

----------------------

When Leliana had first arrived at the Indian settlement, she had been carrying a small bag, which had been immediately taken away from her.

But now she asked after it.

"It is a small bag" she told them, "made out of hide. It contains some basic herbs."

After much looking under belongings, they finally found it in the injured girl's home. It had been opened, and then discarded, its contents spilled over the floor.

But thankfully none of the little packages had split.

As she sorted it all out, she asked someone to heat some water up.

Aislyn came to help her.

"I am looking for the willow bark" she told the woman, "it will help numb the pain." Finally she found it, and put some into a cup, and poured scalding water in to steep. "When that is cool enough, give it to her to drink" she instructed Ailini.

"Have you got everything you need?" Aislyn asked after a few moments.

"I think……." She shook her head, "no some of the parcels are missing, I haven't got any plantain leaves, or any comfrey. I need that to set her leg as well as some birch bark."

Aislyn nodded her head and hurried away.

"How is the pain now?" Leliana asked the girl.

"It is a bit better" she responded grudgingly.

"Okay, I need to examine you. It might hurt."

Ailini gave her a piece of wood to bite down on.

Leliana as gently as she could, looked at the wound on the girl's head; it was still bleeding and had bits of grit and muck in it. Then she examined her leg, "this is a bad break" she said to whoever was listening, "look the bone has pierced the skin."

The leg was covered in blood, but didn't seem to be bleeding. White shone out of the wound.

"I will have to straighten it," she frowned and the willow bark tea won't be strong enough to help with the pain of that."

"What do you need?"

"I need something strong but that won't harm her. Let me think. I will clean the cut on her head first, and then stitch it. I have some thin twine in my bag, and a needle, could you put them in some hot water?"

She didn't wait for a response; she knew that Ailini would do as requested.

She poured some hot water into a bowl and added marigold petals, which would act as an astringent and antiseptic. She also added some pulverised Iris root, that would draw out any poison in the wound, finally she added Alfalfa leaves that would help the wound to scab over, the blood to clot.

"I need something really spotless to clean out the wound" she said, and one of the girls ran and brought her tiny squares of muslin.

"How?"

The girl shrugged, "Aislyn got it."

Once the water was cool enough, she cleaned the wound out. The water ran pink as she did it. Then she started to as gently as she could stitch the wound together.

"That hurts" the girl moaned.

"I know, I am sorry."

"It will be over soon" Ailini held her hand.

Aislyn brought in what Leliana had asked for, "I brought some Datura as well" she said, "our healer uses it when someone really hurts themselves, I knew it was the right container as it has been engraved with the face of an evil spirit so everyone would know it was dangerous.

Leliana looked at the contents within, "yes that is Datura. I will only use a small amount" she reached into the container and took out a pinch of the dried leaves, and put them into another bowl, and then poured in hot water, and took some dried cherries and honey from the supplies and added them too. "Datura is revolting to taste" she told them.

Then she went back to stitching the girl's wound.

Finally she used more of the marigold infusion, and put it over the sealed wound, covering it with some of the plantain leaves and a length of material Aislyn had brought.

She nodded to Ailini to give the girl the Datura, and waited for it to take effect.

In the meantime she filled another bowl with more hot water and added Agrimony; "this is for her bruises" she told them.

She knew it was time to see to the girl's leg when she heard her snoring; the Datura had made her fall asleep.

"Ailini, Aislyn, can you hold her thigh still while I manipulate her foot to get her bone back into place? You will need to hold it tight."

They nodded and took up their position, Leliana sighed and took the girl's foot and started pulling.

Their patient moaned in her sleep.

As she pulled she saw that the wound caused by the bone coming through the skin had started to bleed again. But she didn't let it stop her, not even when the girl shrieked in her sleep.

Finally she heard a click as the break settled together.

She nodded to the others, and gently they lowered the girl's leg.

She picked up the needle and twine again and sewed the small wound up.

Then she took the Comfrey root Aislyn had brought and peeled back the brown skin, seeing gooey matter seep out. She quickly chopped it all up, and spread it over the wound and where the break was. Then she covered the leg with more plantain leaves and material.

"Do you want me to put the birch bark around her leg?"

Leliana nodded, but reached out to examine it. A small tree trunk had been cut in two and the insides taken out.

"This is good workmanship."

Aislyn smiled, "we have the best healer around these parts" she said. "Well at least I thought that until I met you."

Leliana smiled and blushed, "put the bark around her leg."

She went to the nearby fire and picking up a branch of the wood pile. Then she stuck it into the flames, waited for it to catch, and then went back over to the girl and set the birch bark on fire.

Within an instant, Aislyn had poured water over it to put out the flames, "I thought that was only something the Indians did to set a cast" she said.

"No, my mother taught me."

The cast was now hard and joined together. It would last on her leg as long as she rested.

"She should stay here for the night" Leliana suggested, "I will keep an eye on her."

"No" Aislyn shook her head, "you should get some sleep, Ailini and I will stay with her."

Leliana was too tired to argue but thankfully went back to her bed, hoping that after the work she had done that night that the Indian girls would treat her better.

-------------------------

The next morning Leliana was woken by more noise, but this time it wasn't caused by someone extremely angry.

"What do you mean you let a white woman heal her?" a man shouted as he pulled back the flap of the wigwam and angrily walked in. He went right to where the injured girl was asleep.

"Enola" he shook her shoulder, "I am back."

Blearily eyed the girl look up at him, and then winced, "uncle is that you? Oh uncle it hurts."

"I know child, I am sorry I wasn't here last night. I am told that the white prisoner treated you, I suppose I will have much to right." He sighed.

"Leliana might be white, but she is a good healer" Aislyn said quietly next to him.

"Huh, I don't think so. The whites are everything they accuse us of, they are true savages."

"May I remind you" Aislyn's voice was strained, "that though I have lived many years with this people, I was born to the whites."

He turned around, "you know I am not including you when I say the whites are savages, you are a good woman, a good Indian woman."

"Your grovelling words will not get you out of a corner, not all whites are bad, many are decent people who just want to live in peace."

"Ha! You are the only example I have ever seen that is like that, and I believe our Indian's ways have rubbed off on you."

"Will you two stop arguing" Leliana stomped over, her face rigid with rage. "The patient needs to rest."

The man looked arrogantly down at her, "I know what the patient needs little girl, I am a healer, she needs me. Especially after all whatever damage you did last night."

"I think you will find that what I did is perfectly fine and up to your standards."

"Huh, I doubt it. But we will see."

"Uncle it hurts" the girl moaned.

"I will make you an infusion of willow bark to help" he said turning his back on Leliana.

"Actually I already have one cooling" Leliana passed him a cup, "I steeped it while you were arguing. It should be cool enough to drink soon."

The healer look suspiciously down at the cup, and sniffed, "I suppose even the whites have discovered that the bark of the willow helps with pain" he gruffly agreed.

"I cleaned the wound on her head, and stitched it, and then made a compress of marigold petals, Iris root and Alfalfa leaves, that are antiseptic, would draw out any poison and help the wound to heal."

The healer looked at her again, with a little bit more respect this time, and then he knelt down and examined the wound on the girl's head. "You stitch well" he complimented her, and then took it back again by adding, "but from what I have heard that is all the white women do, so it is hardly surprising."

Leliana pursed her lips in fury, and bit back her words.

"I will change this compress in a minute" he said to himself, and then looked at the birch bark cast on the girl's leg. "I suppose this will have to come of" he said, almost reluctantly.

"It was a bad break" she told him, "some of the bone had pierced the leg. With Aislyn and Ailini's help, I straighten it, and then cleaned out the wound, and stitched it. Then I used Comfrey root which will have stopped the little bit of bleeding and help heal the bone. Finally Aislyn brought me one of your birch bark casts, which I must say is fine workmanship. I fitted it to her leg and then set it on fire to seal it."

His chest had swelled at her words of praise, "I suppose that is all I could have done" he said, and bent down, made and applied a new compress with herbs in his beaded bag, and then gave the girl the cooling tea.

"Come and get me when the pain has subsided" he said to Aislyn, "I will go and prepare a bed for her in my home."

With that he started to go, but just before he walked through the open flap of the wigwam, he turned around and nodded to Leliana.

-------------------

Over the next days and weeks, Leliana found herself asked to assist the Indian healer more and more. First of all he would just ask for her comments, like he was trying to test her, and catch her out, but finally respect for her started to show in his eyes. And then he started asking for her advice and help.

And then Setimika came back.

"I see you have been busy ingratiating yourself with my people" he said to her when he learned of all that had happened.

"I am just a healer" she said humbly.

"No just about it" he said, and then drew her into his mother's wigwam where she had been living. "I have news for you" he whispered, "I have been away this many weeks because I managed to get to your family and warn them of the upcoming war. They agreed to flee, and I travelled with them, getting them out of the area. That is how I know what a good healer you are; I've met the women who taught you."

Leliana's face lit up, "are my family well?"

He nodded, "I took them to Fort Nooherooka. They should be safe there."

Leliana thought for a moment, "will you take me to them?" she asked hopefully.

He felt the blood drain out of his face, and his heart lurched, "would you not rather stay here?" he asked desperately, "the people have become used to you, and you have proven you are an asset."

"But as many of them still say, I am white and the enemy."

"Setimika gulped and then nodded, "I will take you to your parents" he agreed.

A head poked around the wigwam's flap of hide, Chief Hancock wants to talk to you" the girl who Leliana had healed sneered, "bring the whitey, he wants to see her as well."

"What do you think he wants?" Leliana terrified question came.

"I don't know, but I suppose we will find out."

Her heart beat to fast as they walked over the chief's home.

------------------------------------

"Would you like to tell me where you have been this last weeks?" Chief Hancock asked of Setimika.

Leliana looked with fear at the man standing next to her, and then out of the corner of her eye she saw Aislyn shake her head.

"Where do you think I have been?" Setimika queried, his voice sounding tired.

"I don't think, I know. You were seen going to one of the white settlements, and helping the people there."

A gasp went up from the throng of Indians surrounding them, "he's a traitor!" someone said.

"He is a traitor" Chief Hancock repeated the words, but in a harsher voice. "He has betrayed his people."

"But why?" a voice shouted out.

"Why indeed? I think it is something to do with the white woman that stands next to him, after all from what I have been told it was her family that he rescued."

"We should have killed her" the girl who Leliana had healed screamed, "we still could."

"Enough" the Chief put his hand up; and everyone was silent. "Tie them up; we will execute the pair of them at dawn."

"No!" Aislyn ran and fell at the Chief's feet, "please, don't kill them."

The Chief looked down on her, "you have been a good woman all the years that I have known you. Your mate was a fine Indian, and so until this day I thought of your children. But your son has let his will be ruled by his heart instead of his head. I can do nothing for him."

"Noooo!"

"Take this woman and her daughter to their wigwam, and make sure they stay there" he ordered one of the men.

Leliana didn't have time to watch the two struggling women being led away before her hands were grabbed and tied behind her back. Then she was pushed to an area by a fire and made to sit down. Setimika was plonked on the ground next to her.

"I am sorry" he said.

"Why are you sorry? If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be in this situation. It is I that is sorry."

Glumly he nodded his head, and turned to stare at the spark flying from the fire, and the men who started to dance around it.

"Are we really going to die?" she asked in a small voice.

He didn't answer, which in itself was answer enough.

------------------------

Finally the Indians, one by one, went to their wigwams until there was just two, their guards and possibly their executioners the next day.

Wide eyed and too terrified to sleep she watched them as they conversed.

Setimika was still sat next to her, but had managed to wiggle closer, and with difficulty had taken hold of her hand tied behind her back, "I am sorry" he said again.

One of their guards wondered off, probably to empty his bladder.

She closed her eyes and tried to picture her family's faces, not how they would be when they found out she was dead, but how they were the last time she had seen them.

Her mother smiling at her.

She was startled to hear the thump of a body falling on the ground, opening her eyes she saw that their guard was out cold, and crouching next to him was the Chief.

He stood up quickly, and ran over to Setimika, cutting his bonds, he urged him to run, "growing up, you were like the son I never had. I couldn't stand to see you die, but I couldn't show leniency in front of the tribe."

Setimika nodded his head, "what about Leliana?"

"She still dies."

"Then so do I" Setimika's eyes bored into the Chief's, "I won't leave her behind."

The Chief frowned and then nodded, "on your head be it, but I tell you that white woman will bring you nothing but trouble."

"Maybe" Setimika grinned, "but maybe I want that trouble."

The Chief chortled, "I guess you do."

"What about my mother and sister? Will they be okay?"

"I will see that they are fine. You don't have to worry about their welfare" he cut Leliana's bonds, "now go, before it is too late."

They ran towards the tree line, looking back around Leliana could only see the fire, and the shape of the unconscious man, the Chief was gone.

"Come on, we have to get as far away as possible" Setimika urged her, "before the other guard comes back and discovers us gone."

"Where are we going?"

"Fort Nooherooka."

--------------------

She thought she couldn't run anymore but she still did. Lungs bursting for air, red in the face, limbs aching, she sprinted away from danger. Thankful that she was wearing an Indian outfit, instead of her usual wear of a hampering skirt, she jumped over the roots of the trees and avoided the low lying branches.

And he ran next to her, seemingly effortless, his limbs fluid.

By dawn she really could go no further, and begged to rest. She panted as she bent double trying to catch her breath.

"We need to get away from here" he said, "they will already be looking for us, and they are excellent trackers. I have been trying to hide our trail as we ran, but I doubt with the need for speed that I have done it enough."

"So they could find us?"

He nodded.

"Okay I am ready" she said bravely, for all she wanted to do was lay down and sleep.

But God was on their side, for not long after they started to flee again, the first snow of winter started to fall softly on the ground, obliterating their footprints and masking their smell so even the Indian's dogs could not follow.

Unfortunately it was also cold.

Leliana knew now that no matter how much she wished to stop they couldn't.

They desperately had to find shelter.

"Look up ahead, in the cliff face" Setimika shouted, "there is a dark depression, I bet it is a cave."

"A cave?" she wiped a flake of snow that had fallen on her eye lid.

"Yes, come on, let's see" he held his hand out to her, which she took.

They climbed together up a small path that led to the depression, it was slippy but with his help they still managed.

"What if there are wild animals in there?" she asked, and then shuddered, "or even worse, evil spirits."

He shook his head, "I will protect you" he said and squeezed her hand, "don't worry."

At the entrance to the cave, they peered in, and then Setimika hesitantly walked in.

Seconds later, Leliana heard his voice echoing back to her, "it is okay in here, no animals or evil spirits. Though there is something good here."

"What is good?" she shouted back to him, still not happy about entering the cave.

"Someone has been here before us, and not too long ago."

"Indians?!"

"No I don't think so."

She sidled into the cave, and soon found him next to a wall with bits of wood and fire starting material by it and next to it, bedding. There were also primitive weapons, a spear and a bow and arrows.

"It is an Indian cave" she moaned, or a bandits' lair."

"It is neither, hush, there is a note saying that it is a travellers' cave. Here I will read it."

"You can read?"

Setimika frowned, "of course I can read, do you not think my mother would have taught me and Ailini?"

"Well, yes okay, of course she would teach you." She smiled at him sadly at him in apology.

Setimika cleared his throat and then holding the letter up so the vestiges of the sun that filtered into the cave could help him, started to read, "the supplies in this cave are for your use, if you are in need then use as much as you have to. But as soon as you are able, please restock."

Leliana's stomach rumbled: and she pushed her hands against it to try to blot out the sound.

"I will start a fire, and then take the bow and arrows and hunt us some breakfast" Setimika said.

-----------------------

Leliana looked out of the mouth of the cave, and just saw a blanket of snow camouflaging the trees and bushes. She shivered as she thought how lonely life would be if something happened to Setimika while he was hunting.

She wondered if the Indians would find him.

But then a shadow outlined against the snow, which gradually got bigger, she saw him. He had what looked like two rabbits draped around his shoulders, their paws tied together.

"Hello" she called out to him, but the sound died in her throat when he put his finger to his lips.

They were hopefully alone, but they couldn't be absolutely sure.

"If they are close" she said as he walked into the cave, "should we have a fire? Won't they see the smoke?"

He patted the flakes of snow of himself, and then shrugged, "I am hoping that the Chief leads them in the wrong direction, but we don't know that. They could be close, or they could be far away, or they could even be huddled around their fires and out of the snow. The thing is the weather is turning bad, and we have to be warm. So we will just have to trust that everything will turn out okay."

He put the rabbits down, and searched in the supplies that had been in the cave. Finding a knife, he reached for one of the dead carcasses, and quickly skinned and gutted them, and put them on a spit to roast.

"Here" he shoved the skin to her, "my mother told me that you have a deft hand at working hides."

She needed no more explanation, but got to work. Finally she put the skins next to the fire to dry, just as the meat he had roasted was ready.

He cut one of the rabbit in half, and put it on two bone plates that had been in the cave.

He gave one to her.

Carefully, she picked at the food until it had cooled sufficiently so she could pick it up, and eat with abandon.

Finally her aching empty stomach hurt for another reason, being full for the first time for over a day.

"That was good" she sighed.

The silence overwhelmed them, Leliana stared into the fire not knowing what to say, mesmerised with the flames. She started to fall asleep.

Setimika went over to her, "you need to get some sleep" he told her. He put down a blanket on the floor, and another to cover her.

Gratefully she lay down, and was almost instantly asleep.

Setimika watched the sleeping woman for some time, and then took up a position by the mouth of the cave, spending the rest of the day and most of the night watching for the first sign of trouble.

-------------------------

The next morning he made preparation for them to leave. As snug and warm as the cave was, it didn't offer true protection, only the fort could offer that.

But Nooherooka was still some way off, even more so with snow drifts, and the possibility of more snow.

"Leliana" he shook her gently.

"What?!" she slurred, looking up at him with bleary confused eyes.

"It's time we went" he said quietly.

She nodded, and then blushed, "I need to………….."

"I will show you where on the way."

She nodded her head, and hoped that he would turn his head.

--------------------------

They walked for what seemed like days but was only hours. And when they saw smoke in the distance, they headed for it, reasoning that they had come upon the fort sooner than they had thought they would.

But it wasn't the fort; or a settlement, it was a lone inhabitancy, a farm, and the smoke wasn't coming from a chimney, but from the remains of a building.

"Stay there" Setimika ordered her.

He walked towards the burnt out shell of the house, seeing the signs of the ground, he stepped carefully making as little noise as possible.

Leliana stood trembling looking at the scene in front of her, but then terror made her disobey him, and she started to walk towards where Setimika was crouched down.

He turned as he heard her, and tried to hide what he had found from her, but it was no use, she had already seen.

She saw a girl, not much younger than she. She wore a white pinafore over a blue dress, now both stained pink and purple from her blood. Her blonde hair was over her face, but she could still see the look of terror that the girl had died with. Nearby was a rag doll, its head torn half off, it clothes ripped, and the stuffing within showing, it had been discarded on the ground, much like its owner had been.

"I met her" Setimika sighed, "I came through this way once I had got your parents to the fort. This child's family gave me a place to sleep for the night, a hot meal in my stomach, and they did that even though they realised I was an Indian. They were a kind people" he nodded to where more bodies lay strewn on the bloodied ground, "they didn't deserve this."

She watched him wipe a tear from his eye, and felt her own threatening. "We should bury them" she said quietly.

"Yes, we should" he agreed, and stalked towards where an untouched barn with its door wide open was.

They worked the rest of the day, and then rested in the barn that night, eating the rest of the rabbit, and some corn from a field that hadn't been burned.

That night she dreamt that she was trapped in a burning building, with no way out.

------------------

The next day, she was woken again by Setimika. He held something out to her, "put this on" he told her.

She frowned as she looked at the dress he had put in her hands, "where did you get it?"

He nodded towards the house, "it looks bad, but not all of it was burned, not badly anyway. I found the dress in a metal chest."

"They are dead woman clothes?" she said her voice rising by an octave.

"She doesn't need them anymore, but you do. We can't arrive at Fort Nooherooka dressed as Indians; they would kill us before we could explain ourselves."

She knew he was right, but she still balked at putting the dress on. She noticed that he was now wearing western clothes, "I suppose they were in the chest as well?"

"Yes, like I said, they don't need them, but we do. And believe me they would be happy that their belongings were going to benefit someone in need. In fact if they had still been alive, I think they would have given us the clothes."

"Okay, I will put it on, are you going to turn away?"

"I will be outside."

She joined him a few minutes later, and together they started to walk.

"We should arrive at the fort today."

Glee showed on her family, "I will see my family again?"

He nodded.

"Oh thank you Setimika" she threw herself into his arms.

Voice ragged with emotion from her close proximity he added, "don't call me Setimika anymore. That was an Indian name. You will have to use the name I gave your family, the one I was given by my mother, after her father."

"And what is that?" she breathed in the scent of him.

"From now on call me Micah."

-------------------

The snow had turned to slush, and Leliana was glad of the warm dress she was wearing and the pair of stout boots Micah had given her.

The day before when she had slept Micah had found a cache at the back of the barn that whoever had attacked and killed the family hadn't found. In it he had found a rifle.

So weapon in his arm, they walked over sparse snow-covered grassland, he ever ready for whatever might come and she chatting away.

"You didn't say your grandfather was called Micah" she was saying, "did you meet him? What did he think of his daughter marrying an Indian?" This last question had a bit of self interest to it, for she could feel herself becoming increasingly close to him, and didn't know how her parents would react when they found out he was part Indian.

"My grandfather's father was an important man in Ireland, a Lord no less. But the English in sixteen fifty one started taking land of the Irish and giving it to Englishmen. Some were given alternative but not so good lands. His father wasn't, he had had a small part in a rebellion to throw of the English power in sixteen forty one, he had helped one of the instigators, so all his wealth was taken from him, and the family left destitute. My grandfather didn't want to live with no food to fill his belly, so he took indenture with one of the Englishmen that was travelling to the new world."

"Your grandfather must have arrived a twenty years before my grandparents" she mused.

"He arrived in sixteen fifty three, and spent ten years working for the Englishman before being granted his freedom. Then he met and married my grandmother, and together they moved up here, and started a farm. Life back then was so different to now, the whites and Indians lived in harmony, helping each other as much as they could. But then more whites came, and spoilt things. They thought they were superior to the Indians, whereas my grandfather and people like him had considered the Indians to be equals. He tried to show the new people that the natives were friendly and good but they wouldn't listen, and started killing any they came across, or selling them into slavery."

"Like your sister?" she gasped.

He nodded, "like my sister."

They talked through the day, and soon saw smoke again. But this time it was coming from the fort they were heading for.

"Remember Leliana, you must call me Micah."

----------------------------

"Leliana" her mother Lelana rushed to her, "oh Leliana, I have worried so much for you."

"Mother, I………."

"Why did you run off like that?"

"Oh mother, I just wanted an adventure."

"Mmm, yes indeed, and you got more than you bargained for."

"Well she is safe now" her father interrupted. "Thanks to this young man."

"We are very grateful to you for bringing our Leliana back to us" an older lady said. "She is very precious to us."

"Grandma" Leliana sighed, and hugged the woman.

"Yes we are" Lelana agreed, "If we can ever do anything for you."

"Actually, there is something he needs" Leliana said, "Micah needs a place to stay, he can't stay with his people anymore."

"Arh, we wondered about that" her father said, "the Indians found out you helped us didn't they?"

"What?"

"You knew?" Micah asked him.

"We knew your grandfather, he was a good man, and is sadly missed. We have also spoken to your mother many times, and saw you when you were younger. I was one of those that managed to free your sister, and many of her friends from the slave traders."

Micah frowned, "I don't remember you."

"The last time I saw you your head only reached up to my waist. You were tiny, and it was long ago."

"And I remember you too" Lelana interrupted, "your mother and I were friends, she would always seek me out when she came to town. I would be honoured to sort out giving her son a home."

"Oh mother, thank you" Leliana cried out.

Lelana looked closer at her daughter, and the young man next to her, "I think it might be best if we find him a place away from our abode though, just for now." She winked at her daughter.

----------------------

Micah was introduced to the commander of the fort, no one revealed his Indian routes, though his need for shelter was made apparent, and that he had escorted Leliana to safety.

That was when the story of the farm house came out.

"Those red skins" the commander seethed.

"How do you know it was the Indians?" Leliana defended Micah's people.

"Who else could it be? Other whites?"

"I suppose not" she said with sorrow.

---------------------

Micah was settling into his new rooms, when there was a knock on the door. He opened it to reveal Leliana, her mother and grandmother.

"We have brought you some home comforts" Leliana said, putting a parcel on a nearby table.

"And some food" Lelana walked in, and started heating up some on a small stove.

"We have also brought you some clothes, can't have you wearing dead man's clothes" Delania smiled gently at the young man.

"This is based on a recipe your mother gave me" Lelana stirred a grained meaty stew. "I am sure you have eaten it before."

"Go in your bedroom, and change into these clothes" Delania urged.

When he came out he found Leliana busily sweeping the floor, "it's a bit grubby" she told him.

"Needs a woman's touch" Lelana side archly at them both.

"Sit down and eat" Delania said putting a bowl of stew in front of him, and Leliana will show you what she has brought for you.

"None of it is traditional Indian" Leliana said, as she started to open the package, "but I thought you would appreciate hide bedding and some colourful covers. They are quite similar to what your mother has in her wigwam."

Micah put down his spoon, and stared at her, "they are very similar, thank you for your generosity and caring thoughts."

"She has been planning on making sure you feel at home all day" Delania giggled, and then looked sternly at him, "eat."

--------------------------

Micah laid the bedding Leliana had given him onto the floor, the thought of sleeping on the bed was so alien to him, that he never even considered it.

He was just drifting off to sleep when he heard his next door neighbour noisily entering his room. From the clamour of voices he obviously wasn't alone.

He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but the walls were thin, and there was a small hole in one, so he could hear every word.

"Well, we got away with it lads" one man was laughing.

The sound of bottles opening echoed through to Micah.

"Ha! I can't believe how angry the commander was. I can still see him pacing up and down, calling curses down on their heads."

"They deserve to be cursed, they are just dirty animals and the sooner we get rid of them from our land the better."

"The commander will see to that."

"Because of us."

They were quiet for a while, and Micah not understanding what they were talking about, started to fall asleep.

"Remember that girl's face when I stabbed her."

"Nah, I was too busy ripping her little dolly up."

"It was fun, we will have to do it again, soon we will have all the settlers clamouring for the Indians' blood."

"Well they think they are murdering whites when it is really us."

"But it is for a good cause, to get rid of the Indians, and if we have a little fun along the way…………"

"I had fun with the mother."

"And setting fire to their house."

"Yeah it was good, we will have to do it again."

"Soon?"

"Soon" the sound of bottles clinking together followed and then the men started to laugh.

Micah couldn't believe what he had heard but in some ways he did. When he had come upon the burning house, and dead family he had thought that something didn't seem quite right, now he knew what it was.

They hadn't been killed by his people; they had been killed by their own.

----------------------

He rose early the next morning, after a long sleepless night. He didn't go to the commander but went straight to Leliana and her family and told them what he had heard.

"How are we going to convince the commander that they and not Indians are responsible for the atrocity?"

Leliana shook her head, "I don't know. From what you have said the commander seemed to be almost happy about the killings, he seems to want to go after the Indians."

"Yes, precisely. He will ignore what I say because he wants to rid this land of my people."

"We have to do something."

"But what?"

"I don't know" she admitted.

---------------------------

They spent the whole morning in thought, joined by the rest of her family and some friends too. But no one came up with an answer.

"It will take something big to convince him those men are responsible for the deaths" Micah finally said.

And something big did happen.

Later that day, the commander came back to the fort after his usual ride around the area to make sure everyone was okay.

In the distance he had seen smoke, signalling that the bugle be blown, they charged to the area.

He found a little farm that a moment before had been under besiege. The attackers had run away, but not before one of the inhabitants within had seen that he was white.

With the army riding up to the house, a woman ran out, "they rode of that way" she pointed to the east.

"The Indians?"

"No they were white, but using the weaponry of Indians. Plus I saw one of them, and I know him. I have seen him at the fort.

By now the rest of the people had come out of the home.

The commander escorted them all to safety within the walls of the fort. Then he called in the man who the woman had named.

The man, cowardly character as he had, blurted out everything.

-----------------------

So their problem was solved, and with the people that had come from the farm, came two others.

Micah's mother and sister.

"The Chief exiled us" Ailini said with disgust, "he said our mother was white, and I was half so, and that we couldn't stay anymore."

"What, he just pushed you out?" Micah angrily asked.

"Calm yourself Seti" his mother urged.

"Call me Micah mother" he hissed.

"Micah" she smiled, "the Chief escorted us to the farm where we were found. He didn't dare come any closer to the fort for fear of being killed, but when he left us, he thought we were safe with the family that live there. He was worried about the war and how it would affect us, that's why he told us we had to leave. The farmer was going to bring us to the fort today, before those evil men turned up."

"Yes, I see." He hugged her and then Ailini, "I was scared I would never see you two again" he said through tears.

"The Chief has a soft heart; I think he was as worried about you in this fort as he was about us."

-----------------------------

Everything was sorted, Leliana had her family, and Micah had his, and soon they would have each other.

Over the next year they became a lot closer; and finally wed on the last day of the year seventeen twelve.

They looked to a future of happiness, though the war with the Indians was still going on.

But that was before the massacre.

Micah looked at the piles of dead bodies, men he had grown up with, women who had ordered him around, children that were the future of his people. But they were all dead.

He looked into the kind face of the Chief, now forever still, and hated how life had turned everything around.

His people were either or dead, or captured and told to move. A treaty had been signed that took away the Tuscarora's right to the land, and gave them a small bit in another place.

Relocation was about to begin.

But Micah couldn't see beyond the face of the kind old man.

"So much death" Leliana shivered next to him, her stomach already showing the first signs of growth, "how can we bring our child into this place of destruction?"

Micah turned to her and fiercely said, "we can't, I can't. I will not stay in this land that is tainted by the blood of my brothers."

"So where do we go then?"

"We go back the way we came, back to our roots. We go to Ireland."

----------------------

Back across the ocean,

back across the sea,

to leave the land so broken,

that is from what they flee.

To an Isle that is green,

to an Isle that is fertile,

from a distance it looks gentle,

but that is to be seen.

A babe is born to Ireland,

a babe is born to them,

but what does life beckon

for the little femme?

---------------------------

_If you are enjoying this story, then please review._

_Plus check out my profile in between posts and you will learn how near I am to posting the next bit._

_Jacquera._


	18. Anna, 1740AD

Anna 1740AD

Anna wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and went out into the cold night. She shivered and wished that she had warmer clothes. She pulled the shawl closer around her neck, feeling the cold air, and the blizzard turning them red within moments. There was a layer of snow on the ground, which melted into the hole in her shoe. She turned towards her destination, and battled through the wind, becoming plastered with ice.

Life hadn't always been like that. She remembered the winters when she was a child as mild, and warmed more by the love of her parents.

She had spent long hours around a roaring hearth fire as both of them spun tails of things that had been.

Anna sighed, and saw her breath smoke out of her mouth; life was a long way from her happy childhood. She was twenty six now, a mother as well as a wife, but sometimes it seemed that she had left all the goodness of her life in those long for days.

She reached the door of her cottage, and entered the dwelling. Just recently inside had been almost as cold as outside, especially as the peat had frozen on the hillside and was impossible to dig out.

"Mama" her six year old daughter ran up to her, "did you manage to get any food?"

She nodded, and revealed their bounty tied up in her apron. One potato, two carrots, a large turnip, and a chunk of bread. All of it had seen better days.

"Oh mama!" the girl's eyes gleamed.

"I will make a soup with it, get my apron and I will get started."

-----------------------

Anna ladled out the thin soup into bowls, she gave her husband three scoops, her three children two, and for herself what was left at the bottom of the pan, which amounted to one small scoop.

"Eat it slowly" she warned them all, "I don't know when we will have such food again."

But they were all quicker than her; Anna savoured each spoonful, until she saw the faces of her hungry children, and their empty bowls. She separated the rest between them.

A cry came from the other side of the room, and walking over she picked up her month old daughter, and attached her to her breast.

Thankfully she still had milk for the child.

"Mama, I'm still hungry" her three years old moaned.

"I know" she sighed, "but there isn't anything left to eat."

Once she had tucked all the children up in their bed, she went to talk to her husband.

"James, what are we going to do? Food is getting scarce; it is only because my mother gives us food that we have any. You have to do something."

"I'm doing all I can woman" he moaned back at her, "there are no jobs, and not likely to be. They are even saying that there won't be a harvest this year, what with these cold winters."

Anna looked at him with horror, "no harvest! How will we live?"

"Look, don't worry about it, the winter will be over soon, and then I can cut peat off the hills again, and sell that for food. We will be okay."

"I hope you are right James, the children are getting thinner as we all are, but I worry about the baby most, if my milk goes then she will die."

He nodded, "I will go to the Church tomorrow and see if there are any more handouts" he promised.

Anna, arms wrapped around her aching empty belly could do nothing but agree.

-------------------------

The next day, Anna woke up to a freezing air that seemed to want to seep into her lungs. She hurriedly got out of bed, pulling a blanket over her shivering shoulders and went to the bowl of water she had left the night before. She dipped a cloth into it, and quickly waved her face and hands, the back of her neck, all the while her teeth rattling. Then she threw of her nightgown, and put on her day clothes, including fingerless clothes, and a warm woollen bonnet. Finally she pulled on her holey shoes, and shawl and tiptoed to the front door, opening it quietly on her way to fetch more water.

At the well, she lowered the bucket, but didn't manage to get any water. Instead she heard it hit something. It seemed that the well had frozen over in the night, or at least the top later and she had no way of getting passed that.

There was no choice, picking up the axe her husband used to chop firewood; she started the traipsed down to the nearby river. This too was frozen, but with a bit of effort, and hitting the ice with the axe she was able to make a hole big enough to collect some of the water that flowed underneath, along with big pieces of ice.

She carefully carried the bucket back to the house, its contents too precious to let it slop over the sides, plus she was scared that if she got wet she would freeze.

When she got back, everyone else was still asleep, though she could already hear hunger moans coming from her children. She poured the icy water into a cooking pan, and lit the stove to hit it up.

The log pile was almost none existent, and Anna knew that if they ran out of wood then they would have nothing in the house to use for cooking fuel.

So she went outside again.

By the time she was back, carrying a basket of twigs, the water was boiling and she took it off the stove to cool.

She rummaged through her supply of herbs, growing more meagre as the memory of the summer months drifting into something resembling a dream.

She added a small handful of chickweed to the hot water, and another one of burdock, and then breathed in deeply. The tea was known to help cure hunger pangs, at least a little, though she knew the only real cure was food.

She poured herself a cup, and sipped the hot liquid, feeling it fill her cavern of a stomach, and splash against the sides. The heat comforted her, giving her pleasant warmth.

"Mama, Lara has wet the bed again" her eldest daughter informed her.

Anna sighed.

The bed is drenched, and so are the rest of us."

"Okay Sarah, I will deal with it, take your clothes off and I will heat some water up so you can all wash."

She went to her bed, and pushed the shoulder of her husband, "James wake up."

"Leve me lone" he slurred in his sleep.

"James!" she said sharply, "I need you to wake up. I need your help."

He opened one eye, and looked blearily at her, and then he grabbed her around her waist and pulled her to the bed.

"James" she shrieked as he tried to tickle her, "James, leave me alone. Lara has wet the bed again, I need you to help."

He kissed her on the lips, and then said "I will go and get some water."

"Thank you" she held his hand for a moment, squeezing it with affection.

"I will be back soon" he said as he pulled on his boots, and a jacket.

"James" she called to him just as he was about to leave the house, "the well is frozen."

"Great!" he groaned.

"I managed to get a bucket of water from the river not long ago; there should be a good hole still. It won't have frozen over yet."

"Let's hope not."

After he was gone, she turned to the shivering children, "come on, let's get those wet clothes off" she said, wrapping the three in blankets, "sit by the stove" she told them, and went to pull the sheet off the straw mattress.

It was wet through, the mattress too; she ended up turning it over, disturbing dust, which threatened to choke her.

She heard the thudding feet of James, and turned to see him hurry in the door, a bucket in his hand.

She ran over to the stove, and put a big copper pan on it, and watched as he poured the water in.

"You will need more water to wash the clothes and bedding won't you?"

She nodded her head and smiled as he headed yet again to the door.

Once the water was warm enough she filled a small basin with some of it, and started to wash three year old Lara, using a bar of homemade soap. She dried the girl, and had managed to dress her before James came back with another bucket load.

"I will wash Jamie lad" he offered, "you see to Sarah."

"I want mama to wash me" Jamie moaned.

"Don't be silly Jamie; let your Dar help you."

Tears threatened from the three year olds eyes, until James picked him up, threw him over his shoulder and said, "I think we should wash you in the snow."

"No Dar" he screamed with joy, "it's too cold."

"A man isn't scared of a bit of cold" he chortled.

Jamie just giggled.

"Okay lad, I will wash you with warm water" James grinned, and tickled the boy under the chin.

Five minutes later, the children were all dressed and sat around the table drinking the cooled chickweed and burdock tea.

And then the baby started to cry.

---------------------------------

"Hello little one" Anna picked up the small child, "are you hungry?" She kissed the small downy head, and sitting down on a chair by the stove, attacked the baby to her breast.

The tiny girl suckled greedily.

Once she had finished Anna cleaned her up, and then started to mammoth task of washing wet clothes and bedding, along with soiled baby wear.

James had taken the older two children with him, to see if the Church would help them, and the baby and younger child were taking a nap.

She boiled the water over the stove, and then carefully poured it into a copper tub. Then she cut slivers of a bar of homemade soap and dropped them into the water. Finally she put the wet clothing and sheet into the steaming water, and agitated it with a stick. It was a hard job, one that made her sweat. She pounded the stick down, forcing the water through the material. With tongs she eventually put it all in a large bowl of cold water and left it to soak.

Next she put in the baby's clothes, pounding these too.

And then all she had left to wash was the nappy. She discarded the soft padding she used to soak and catch whatever the baby passed first; she used dried grass collected the summer before. Many she knew had started using their supplies not for their children's bottoms but to add to food, but she wouldn't stoop that low. Plus she was aware that grass wasn't too digestible to the human body. ,

She scrapped off all she could from the material, and then put the nappy in the water.

When James arrived back, the little cottage was festooned with sheets and clothes draped everywhere. And Anna sat in a chair, and the two youngest in their beds were fast asleep.

----------------------

"Anna" she could feel herself being shaken.

For a second she was confused, but then she remembered that it was the middle of the day. "Oh, I fell asleep. How could I fall asleep?" She looked wildly around, "we need more wood on the stove. We have to get all this dry, or they will freeze."

"Calm down Anna" James put his arms around her making her become still instead of flapping around, "I will go outside and get some more wood in a little while. But for now, sit down Sarah has something to show you."

The little girl went outside and came back with a basket brimming with food, "the vicar's wife gave us these, and she said that the news is there is grain on its way to help us" she grinned.

Anna looked at the food in wonder.

"But when I went to see her, she said there wasn't anything."

"Arh, she thought you were Catholic."

"Catholic? "What has Catholic got to do with it?"

"It's a sad thing, it seems they are only helping Protestant families, and leaving the Catholics ones to survive however they can."

"But, but that is horrible." She was stunned that anyone could be so vindictive or prejudice, "why would they do that?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Take it back, how can we eat when others are starving?"

"No!"

"But it isn't fair."

"No, it isn't fair; nothing about this famine is fair. But I won't take it back and I will keep getting their aid, I can't see our children starve, and I can't let you eat the small amounts you have been doing. You give her milk" he nodded at the sleeping baby, "she needs you. We all need you."

"I know, and yes we will have to keep it, but it isn't right."

"Maybe their Church will look after them?"

Anna looked squarely at James, "do you really think that? I would like to believe it, but Catholics are persecuted even here in Ireland. You know that there will be nothing the Churches can do to help their people; they will probably starve to death themselves.

"I know" James held his head low, and then lifted his head up and grinned at her, "we will share it, it will make us more hungry but at least we won't have full stomachs while others become skin and bone."

"Yes, yes, the family down the lane are Catholic; we will share it with them."

--------------------

With generosity in mind, and caring about others at heart this was how the next weeks and months played out.

But by the time April came, three months after they had struggled so, and the snow had gone, and the hills defrosted, things were still not good.

The Catholic family at first happy to except supplies, soon started to ask for more. And when Anna's family couldn't give that, they became angry.

"Why are you better off than us anyway?" the mother shouted one morning as Anna brought half of what they had received from their Church the day before. "We have more mouths to feed than you do; you only have five, because that baby gets your milk. I have eight; we should get more than you."

Anna could see the sense in that, and though she didn't like the tone of the woman's words she agreed that she would give those more.

But it still wasn't enough.

One day when the woman was moaning her fate yet again, and saying that Anna's family was being greedy, she had had enough.

"We only get so much from the Church, and it is meant only for my family, but we give you three quarters, and you are still not happy. What do you want? All of it?"

"I'm just looking after my family" the mother argued back, "that husband of yours is young and strong, he can make money to buy food whereas my man has a bad back and has to lay in bed all day in pain."

"And I have given him herbs to help with that pain haven't I? We have been fair with you, we could have kept everything for ourselves and not helped our nearest neighbour, but that is not what we are like."

"No, what you are like is stuck up. Coming around and pitying us. Giving us food when I am pretty sure you have loads left at home."

Exasperated, Anna shook her head, "we haven't got hardly anything at home, and my children are going hungry so yours don't starve."

"And you want me to be thankful to you?"

"I just want to help."

"Well give us more food" the woman roared.

"I haven't got anymore."

"Lies, you are a liar, you up in your cottage with your protestant airs, thinking you are better than a Catholic family. Thinking you can get away with just giving us your crumbs. We deserve more food. There are more of us than there are in your family; I have ten mouths to feed."

"Wait a minute; I thought there were eight in this house."

"Oh my poor sister had to send her two sons to us, she couldn't feed them."

"So I am expected to?"

"Isn't it your Christian duty to help those worse of than yourself?"

"Not when I am being used. I've had enough, I will continue to help your family because I won't see your children skin and bones, but from now on my husband will bring the food and he will give you half."

"That is not good enough."

"I don't care" Anna said from the door of the cottage and then slammed the door shut.

"I can't believe that woman" she seethed with each step down the path to her home.

When she got back to her home she made herself a calming tea, and then started dinner, making a soup with a handful of grain, and some vegetables.

-------------------------

"Dar; is it time to dig the potatoes up yet?" seven year old Sarah asked four months later.

James smiled, and then ruffled her brown hair, "yes I believe it is. Are you going to help me or stay with your mother and help with your little brother and sisters?"

Sarah looked to where her baby sister was trying to pull herself up with the use of a chair. She had been spending a lot of time with the child recently and didn't want to miss anything.

"Go with your father" Anna laughed, "Tara won't be taking those first steps for weeks yet."

Sarah grabbed hold of her father's hand, and started to drag him outside, "come on Dar, we have work to do" she urged.

"Hey, wait for me; I have to get the spade, and some baskets."

"Can I come too?" Jamie asked, his bottom lip stuck out, and a look of entreaty in his eyes.

"Take him" Anna said, "he's five now, and the sooner he learns to work the land, then the better."

James nodded his head, and then picked the boy up and put him on his shoulders.

"I will carry the spade" Sarah offered.

Anna smiled as she watched the three leave the cottage, and thought about the lovely potatoes they would soon get to eat.

----------------

Hours later, as the sun started to fall in the sky they came back, the two children dirty and crying and James anger seething out of his eyes.

"What?!" she asked warily.

He slung the spade across the floor, where it landed with a clatter against the wall, then he thumped down into a chair, and glowered, "all gone, the whole harvest rotted in the ground."

Anna gasped, "all of it?"

He nodded his head, "all of it, there isn't even one sound potato, they are either a mush or haven't grown properly."

"But…………"

He looked up at her now, eyes full of the knowledge that yet again he wouldn't be able to feed his family, "I reckon it was that winter and spring. The coldest I ever remember, it has affected the growth."

Anna stared at the floor, lost in her thoughts.

"Are we going to die?" Sarah asked, her tears running streaks through the mud on her face.

"Noooo!" she responded, and then looked at James, who shrugged his shoulders.

"You don't have to worry though" he said kindly to her, "now I think you and your brother need to wash, or your mother will think you are a potato and put you in the pot."

The little girl laughed nervously at this and grabbing her brother's hand, ran outside to wash at the river's edge.

Anna glanced at her two other children, fast asleep, "what are we going to do?" she asked.

"I don't know" he admitted, and burst into tears.

Anna rushed over to her husband, "we will be okay, you see, we will be fine."

"How?" he said with sobbing howls, "we usually sell half our potato harvest to pay the rest of the cottage, if we haven't got anything to sell, then we haven't got anywhere to live."

"But it can't be that bad."

"It is."

"We can always go to my parents, or yours."

"No we can't. I took so long coming back today because I went to see them. Their potatoes fields have failed like ours; in fact half the area has no harvest, before long we are all going to be homeless."

"Oh but our landlord will understand, he won't demand the money."

"Don't you bet on it" he said with anger, "after all the land we stand on used to belong to my family, but it was stolen from us by our landlord and those like them. They only care about themselves."

"Maybe" she admitted, "but we have a roof over our heads for now. Until we lose that we shouldn't worry, the Church has been giving us food, and I am sure they will continue."

"I hope so."

----------------

In the middle of the night, she was rudely awakened when someone kicked in the door of their cottage and started shouting.

James jumped out of bed, and tried to force the men out, while Anna ran to her children, and picked the youngest up, while the older two clung to her trembling.

"Get out" James screamed.

"I don't think so" the man laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound, but malevolent, "the landlord wants his rent; if he doesn't get that then he wants his cottage. So ever pay up or get to yourself."

"We haven't got the money, our potato harvest failed and……………"

"That is really sad, but it is nothing to do with me, or the Landlord. He wants to be paid, and as you haven't got the money, he wants you out, now."

"But it is the middle of the night."

"Tough!"

"We have children………….."

"Yeah I see that, I'm not blind, but I'm not heartless either, I will give you ten minutes to gather up whatever you want to take with you."

"Where do you expect us to go?" Anna asked.

"The man now turned from James and looked at her, "I don't know, but I would advice you to put on a few more clothes, though the view is quite enticing."

"Why you!" James looked like he was going to hit the man.

"Okay because of your little temper tantrum, you have now got five minutes."

"This isn't fair!"

The man grinned, "get dressed, get those children dressed, and take whatever you want. We will be waiting outside for you and if you aren't out in five minutes we will drag you out, even if you are naked." And he looked at Anna like he hoped that would be the case.

Anna dragged a dress on over her nightdress, and put her boots on, and shawl. She quickly put as many warm clothes as she could on the crying scared children.

While she was doing this, James dressed and then started to pull the little food they had together putting it in a sheet, and tying it up into a bundle. He grabbed his spade, and put it next to the bundle, that would act as a weapon. Finally he tore the bedding off the beds, and made another bundle of that.

After everyone was dressed, Anna put the remaining clothes into one last sheet. Then she tied a blanket around her shoulders and waist and put the baby in it, at her chest.

"Coming in, ready or not" a voice came from outside, and the man walked in. "Times up, get out now."

Anna picked up the bedding bag of clothes, and the meagre one of food, and held the hand of Lara, while James picked up Jamie, the spade and the rest of the bedding and held Sarah's hand.

Then with their heads held high, they left their home and all their hopes and dreams.

-------------------------

They headed for Anna's mother but when they got to the cottage that had been her childhood, it was surrounded by men.

"Anna dear" a neighbour ran up to her, "oh it is truly horrid. We have been forced out of our homes."

She nodded, "I know, we too have been evicted."

The woman looked at her with dismay, "but you have children, and Anna I am so sorry."

She shrugged, "have you seen my parents?"

"Yes, they tried to go to your home, but the men wouldn't let them. We have all been told we have to take the north road."

"And they have already gone?"

"Your mother was crying ever so much. They left about ten minutes ago, but you are young, even with your children I reckon you could catch them up in a few minutes. Us old ones go slow."

"Do you need any help?"

the woman shook her head, "go on with you, I will be fine, now I know that you have been evicted too, I will wait for my son, I am sure that his family will have suffered the same fate as yours."

"Probably, these men are horrible, and the landlord is just scum."

"And he always was, oh I yearn for the days of my youth when the fine men of Ireland owned their own land. But those times are gone and we are destitute. Now go; all of you; catch up with those parents of yours."

-------------------

Five minutes later, they saw the older couple stumbling down the road.

"Mother!" Anna shouted, and ran sobbing into her parent's arms.

"Oh Anna" Leliana stroked her hair, "I was worried I would never see you again. They wouldn't let us go to you."

"I know mother, I know."

It was then Leliana saw the children, "Anna, the children, are you homeless too?"

"Yes mother."

"Oh no, I thought this land held our dreams, but it is a nightmare. How I wish we had stayed in the new world, even with the massacre, life wasn't so cruel as here."

"You did what you thought was best" Anna comforted her, "and it isn't the land of Irlenad that is responsible for our plight. For all we know the famine is happening all across the world, maybe even in the new world. And the evil of these men" she waved a hand in the direction of their old homes, "is the same as those who were responsible for the massacre in that far off land. The truth is some men are wicked and think only of themselves."

"Yes the world is a bad place, but I can never fully give up on it when there are souls as pure as yours Anna."

She nodded her head, "so where are you going? Where are we all going?"

"I have heard that there is food in Dublin" her father Micah said.

"Dublin it is then" Anna smiled.

-----------------------

They had been walking about half an hour when they came upon antoher group of the evicted.

Ten people stubmed along the path.

One of them turned around, and Anna saw a look of hatred on the woman's face.

"It's them" the woman spat, turning fully around, and standing in their way, "you are the reason why we are homeless" she accused, "if you had given us the food we needed, then we would have had enough money left to pay our rent."

"Look we gave you all we could spare. We have already told you that, and hey we are homeless too, we are in the same boat as you."

"Good, I am glad that you are brought down, you Mrs High and Mighty will have to live outside. In fact I reckon it is your punishment, I think it is your fault our potato harvest failed, you are a witch."

"Don't ever call my daughter a witch!" Leliana voice sternly said, "don't ever call anyone a witch."

Anna took hold of the older woman's hand, and looked into her eyes; she knew that her mother was thinking about her own mother and how she had been accused of witchcraft."

"Witchy, witchy" some of the younger members of the family started to sing.

The woman started to open her mouth, to pour out more vitriol, but when she saw the look in Anna's eye, she closed it again.

"Are you going to Dublin?" her husband asked.

"Yes!" Anna held her head up high, refusing to let anyone get one over on her.

"Good, like you said we are all in the same boat. The more of us there are, the less chance of us being attacked for our few belongings on the way."

Anna's mouth dropped open in astonishment.

"What?" the man laughed, "we aren't all as mean as my wife." He looked at his children, "and don't worry about them, I will make sure that they leave you alone."

Anna nodded her head, and started to walk again. She noticed that the man stooped like he was in pain, as well as limping.

-----------------------

The children were exhausted, and they didn't manage to walk too many more steps before they could not go on.

So they stopped, and covered the four children with the blankets, while they sat and watched the night.

The woman had decided to stop too. "Hey, give us a blanket" she demanded.

Anna shook her head, "the blankets are for my children" she said.

"But it's cold" the woman moaned.

"Did you not bring any blankets with you?"

The woman shrugged, "I brought poitin."

Anna looked at the woman's children, hugging their knees and shivering as they sat on the ground. "You brought alcohol instead of taking what your children need?"

"Arh they are alright."

Anna shook her head; she couldn't believe the selfishness of the woman. She looked to her husband, "you could have brought blankets" she told him.

"I wanted to" he looked at his scowling wife, "but she wouldn't let me, she said we only took the poitin."

"Oy" the woman shouted, and clouted her husband around the ear, "be quiet man."

Anna had seen enough, she could tell who was in charge of the family by the look of fear the rest of the cast upon the woman.

"Children" she went over to the five young ones, "huddle in with our children" she suggested, "your body heats together will keep you warm."

"Thank you" said the man.

"Hey, what about the rest of us?" the woman wanted to know.

"Let your precious poitin keep you warm."

-----------------------

By the time the sun rose in the sky the next morning, many of their friends and neighbours had caught up with them.

It seemed like the whole area had been forcefully evicted from their homes.

Thankfully only a handful had brought alcohol, many others had brought the necessities of life.

The next day they started walking, the woman staggered along, slurring words of complaint.

She disappeared for a time, and came back smelling of urine, with a big brown splodge on the back of her dress like she had fallen over.

"Show me the way to go home" she sang.

"You ain't got no home" a woman reminded her.

"That's because of her" she pointed at Anna, "she ate all the food, leaving nothing for me, and then she made our potatoes rot in the ground."

Her husband shook his head at the people showing looks of horror, and silently mumbled "she's drunk" to them.

And that was how there days and nights went, walking while the sun was up, and shivering in the night.

One by one, often family by family, people left, some left to join relatives or friends, but some were taken by a fever.

-----------------------

It was during the fourth day of their journey that Leliana, Anna's mother couldn't go on anymore.

"We will wait until you are feeling better" Anna insisted as she sat next to the older woman slumped on the ground.

"No, there is hardly any food left, and the air feels like it gets colder each day, you have to get those children somewhere safe."

"But we can wait a while."

Her father took hold of her hand, "your mother is right, you have to stay with the rest of the group. Your first priority has to be to your children. I will stay with your mother until she is ready to travel again, and then we will meet you in Dublin."

"But…………"

"We will be fine, I might have lived as my Irish ancestors lived for many years now, but I was born to be outside, as an Indian I lived of the land."

"But it was a different land, not as harsh as this place has become. And you are older now."

"Maybe so, but I am not dead yet, we will be okay, we will survive. But your children might not, especially that baby."

Anna looked down her chest to where her sleeping child lay in a blanket, and sighed, "you are right, the babe has hardly been awake this last day, she has woken when she is hungry, and then fallen asleep again before she could have possibly quenched her need."

"Then you will continue on to Dublin?" her mother asked hopefully.

Anna nodded her head.

---------------------

Anna had trouble sleeping that night, well she had problems every night, the hard ground, and rocks didn't help, but she was finding it even harder to fall asleep.

She was worried about her parents.

When she did finally manage to sleep, she did it only fitfully and was woken time and again by the sounds of people moving around.

And then there was the coughing.

Many, undernourished, and cold were falling prey to a fever that was taking many lives and leaving others too frail to do anything that watch in a stupor.

That night the coughing was louder, as if more people were ill, or their illnesses had grown more severe.

And one cough was harsher than the rest.

Anna gave up all pretence of sleep, and tried to help. But as she had no medicine, no herbs, she could do little except little sips of water for the dying man.

"Will you look after the children when I am gone" the man asked.

"You need to rest" she gently admonished.

"No, I need to sort things out. My wife is not capable, she is too often found in a bottle, and my oldest children can't be bothered, there are five little ones that need support, need a mother and I want you to be that for them."

"Hush, I will do what I can for them."

The man nodded, and started to cough again and when he had finished he was deathly pale, and couldn't talk anymore. Within minutes he had started his next journey.

"Is he dead?" the woman slurred.

"Yes."

"Good riddance."

Anna turned to the woman who had become the bane of her life, "how can you say that? He was your husband, and from what I have seen much better at the role than you are as a wife."

"Oy, less of your mouth. He was a boring man; always looking down his nose at me harmlessly amusing myself. I am glad he's dead, now I can live like I want to."

"What about your children?"

The woman shook her head with disgust, "I heard you agreeing to look after them, they are your responsibility now."

"And what will you do?"

The woman shrugged, and raised a bottle to her lips, "I'll have some fun."

------------------------

By the time they reached Dublin on the seventh day, snow had started to lightly fall out of the sky, drifting around their heads and then coat the ground.

Anna was glad to be finally in a city, especially when she realised that a local Church had opened its doors to the destitute.

Finally under shelter, and some food in her stomach, her thoughts turned to her parents, who were still out there somewhere. In the snow.

"Please be alright" she sighed, wishing that she hadn't been so easily swayed into leaving them.

She imagined them struggling through a blizzard, falling and stumbling. She thought of how her father wouldn't be able to find any food when it was frozen under a blanket of snow.

"They will be fine" James said, as if he had read her thoughts.

"I hope so" she responded, tears in her eyes as she thought of her beloved parents.

---------------------------

The next day, as Anna, her husband, their four children, and the five they had come to be responsible for wandered through the people packed city.

"There are so many people" Anna said, jostled to one side by a passing man.

"Dublin has really filled up since the famine started" a girl nearby said.

Anna looked at her, and the borrow she had with her.

"Would you like some cockles? Or muscles?"

"No" Anna shook her head, "sorry we haven't got any money."

"Oh love, no one has any money at the moment" the girl said sadly.

"That's true."

"Mama" Sarah pulled on Anna's skirt, "what's cookoos and muclee?"

"You don't know what they are?" the girl crouched down, and with a merry glint in her eye said, "they are quite delicious, and very good for you. Would you like to try some?"

Sarah shook her head, and then said "I don't know."

The girl laughed and rubbed her hair, and then turned back to Anna, "my names Molly."

"Anna."

"Well Anna, you look like you have your hands full."

Anna grinned, "only four of the children are actually ours, we have become parents to the others in the last few days. Though I am starting to love them like they were my own."

"Arh you are a good girl, there is no doubt on that. Are you one of the displaced?"

Anna frowned; she didn't know what the girl meant.

"Was your home taken from you?"

"Yes" Anna nodded her head, "we only arrived in Dublin yesterday, and already found a place to stay."

"You were lucky."

"Oh no, they are helping everyone" Anna tried to say.

"They are trying to help everyone, but many families are finding themselves without beds night after night. And empty bellies too."

"But the Church…………"

"Have limited supplies. Like I said you were lucky last night, but you might not be tonight."

"But the weather is turning cold."

"Yes it is, and I fear we are going to have another winter like the last one."

Terror filled Anna's heart at the idea. "What will we do?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know, but I don't believe your salvation will come from Dublin. There have already been food riots and soon they will become violent."

"Violent?"

The girl nodded, "I have to get back to work or I will starve myself. I will pray that you all get the help that you need. And if you need a friend, someone who will listen to you, then ask for me."

"I don't know your name."

The girl laughed, "its Molly, ask for Molly Malone."

--------------------

When they finally returned to the Church, after a day of wandering around, they found that there was no room for them.

Later sitting in a dark rubbish strewn alley after being forced to move from more than one spot, both by the authorities and other homeless who had already claimed the place, James began to laugh.

"What?" Anna mumbled, sitting on an old crate.

"It is nothing" he said wryly, "I just know how Mary and Joseph felt now."

Anna frowned, curling her top lip to show her confusion.

"Mary and Joseph" he repeated and then sighed, "there was no room at the Inn for them, you know in the story of Jesus' birth."

"How is that to do with us?" She was only half interested, too busy watching the children, and worrying about the next day.

"Because there was no room at the Inn for them; and none at the Church for us" he said.

"Oh. Very good."

Lara walked up to her, and pulled on her dress, "Mama, I'm hungry" she said.

"I know you are sweetheart, and I wish I could give you something to eat but I haven't got anything."

The little girl's face fell with disappointment.

"I will get some food" the eager little voice of one of her new children piped up and he ran off.

"Oh mama, he is going to get some food" Lara said with glee.

"We will see" Anna said hoping the child wasn't going to try to steal it.

Moments later he was back, his pockets filled with something. "She used to always bake us rock cakes when we were hungry" he said about his mother. He pulled out a handful of mud, "sometimes she would just give us it like this" he continued.

"But that is mud" Anna gasped.

The boy nodded, "she said it was good for us."

Anna shook her head, "it isn't good for you, it could kill you. Why would your mother give you mud?"

The boy shrugged, "there wasn't much food" he said, "she said that what they had couldn't be wasted, so she gave us this." Tears were trickling down his cheeks by now.

"What did she use the food for?" she asked, hoping her fear wasn't about to be realised.

"she used it to make her poitin."

Anna sadly nodded her head, "promise me that you and your brother and sisters won't eat any more mud; or anything else that isn't food."

"Okay" he said reluctantly, "but how will we sleep with our bellies hurting so?"

She didn't have an answer.

----------------------

"How could she treat them like that?" Anna asked James later once all the children had fallen asleep.

"I don't know" he responded sadly, "I am surprised that her husband let it happen though, he seemed a decent man."

"Yes, I believe he was, but he was also ill. I doubt he realised what was happening."

"I would like to see her again, just one more time" James wrung his hands with anger.

"No, don't lower yourself to her standard. Those children are safe now with us, and somehow we will work out how to feed them. I don't intend to spend another night out in this cold."

"I think you should go and see that girl in the morning, Molly Malone she called herself."

Anna nodded her head, "I just hope she can help us."

-----------------------

In the middle of the night, when it was Anna's turn to watch, but had fallen asleep, she was awoken by someone tugging her blanket off her.

"Give that here" an old man was saying, "I can sell that to buy food."

She grabbed the other end and tried to pull it back. "James" she shouted, turning around to see him grappling with another man and the children standing blanketless, fear on their faces, and silent tears falling down their cheeks.

Lara seemed to be going blue, like she was holding her breath, she was shaking her head a little, and then like a door had been opened a scream came out of her little mouth.

Anna immediately let go of the blanket and ran to her, and the other children, "it will be okay" she tried to soothe them as one by one they all joined Lara to make a cacophony of cries.

She saw that James was still struggling with the man, but when she saw the glint of metal, she started to shriek.

James shocked for a moment looked towards her and let go of the blanket enough that the man could take it.

He ran off.

"Anna" he moaned, "that was our last blanket, why did you make that noise and make me lose it?"

"He had a knife" she whispered with horror, and took a deep breath, "he had a knife" she sobbed, and drew the children to her.

--------------

They spent the rest of the night wandering around, carrying the few belongings that hadn't been stolen. By the time the sun rose, they were all shivering, and frightened out of their minds.

"We have to get help" Anna said, crying as she saw her little girl stumble beside her. She picked the exhausted child up.

"Mama, why were those men so nasty?" Lara asked, innocent eyes peering up at her, and a frown crinkling her forehead.

Anna's heart seemed to break at the beauty of the child amidst what was now to be utter poverty. But she couldn't answer; she had no words to speak.

When people started to mill around the market thirty minutes later, they started to ask for Molly.

"I haven't seen her" one woman told her.

"She is over by Taverner's Street earlier" a man said.

Eventually after much searching and asking, they heard the melodious tones of the girl singing.

"Cockles and muscles alive, alive o."

"Molly" Anna ran up to her, and smiled.

"Oh it's you love" the girl said, "how was last night? Doesn't look like you did very well."

Anna quickly told her all that had happened.

"Oh dear, I am sorry that you have experienced the thieving gangs, though they are just desperate people. I tell you what; I will ask my parents if you can all stay at our home for a few days. Give you chance to get on your feet."

"Oh thank you" Anna sobbed, "you don't know what this means to us."

Molly looked at the children, "I think I do" she said quietly.

-----------------------

They followed Molly into a damp smelling terrace house, its walls dirty with age old handprints and other contaminants. It smelt of stale urine. She led them up stairs, festooned with rubbish, and what looked like rat droppings. After three flights, they came to dull looking door.

"This is it" Molly said, opening the door, "it isn't much."

The small room was a lot cleaner that the corridor they had entered through, its floor looked like it had been scrubbed, and its walls though stained, were free of dust.

There was an odour of soap, and as the window was open the clean smell of the snow that lay on the roof. Underneath that lay the stench of Molly's livelihood, fish.

"I was born in this room" Molly told them, "and have spent all my life here, first with my parents, and then after my Dar died, just with my Mum, but now it is just me."

Anna nodded her head, acknowledging the younger woman's pain. "Maybe you will meet a young man, and birth his children here" she said hopefully.

Molly laughed, which turned into a cough, "all the lads are after Molly, but I am too fast for them. They chase me, but I have never let any of them catch me, not so far anyway. But yes, I do yearn for a man in my life now, especially seeing how yours helps you with the children."

Anna turned around and grabbed James' hand, "he is a good man. I hope you find yours."

"Maybe I will" she said, and then sighed. "But sometimes I fear I will be alone until my dying day."

"Don't think like that."

"No, you are right. But enough about me, the children can sleep on that bed over there" she pointed to the corner of the room. "But it will be a bit of a squeeze for them. I also have a couple of thin mattresses as well, which we can sleep on."

"Oh thank you."

Molly smiled, "nothing new, I have helped people before you, and I will probably help more after you are gone." She coughed again.

"You are a good woman."

"I try to be."

------------------------

A few hours later they had had a light meal, what would have been a big meal, or enough food for many days spread out very thinly amongst twelve, the children finally went to bed. Exhausted from all that had happened to them the last few weeks, they fell asleep within minutes.

"Arh, silence" Molly smiled, rubbing her forehead, "there is nothing like it."

Anna nodded, and smiled back, "thank you for all this" she said again.

"Think nothing of it. It is just my way of making up for my sins" she coughed.

Anna didn't ask Molly what she meant, she didn't want to pry. In fact, she was too concerned. "You are coughing a lot" she said.

"Yeah, I think I have a bit of a cold, got a really bad headache too."

Anna nodded, "I would have been able to make you a tea to help you, if my herbs hadn't been stolen."

"Don't worry yourself, I will be fine."

---------------------

In the middle of the night, Anna was woken by the sound of coughing, and crying.

She crawled over to the mattress where Molly was lying, and saw that the girl had red eyes, and was tossing and turning in her sleep, going from coughing fits to be almost delirious.

Most alarmingly she had blood pouring out of her nose, and cascading down her cheeks.

"Molly" she pushed the girl slightly, trying to get her to wake.

Molly opened her eyes, "mar, is that you? Why is the sun so bright? It is burning my eyes."

Anna looked towards the window, where not a bit of light was shining through; it was still the middle of the night.

"Mar, you look funny" Molly continued, she started to giggle, "you look like a fish just pulled out of the river."

Anna checked the girl's head, it was hot, unbearably so.

"What's wrong with her?" James whispered, having been woken by the girl's erratic talk.

"She has a fever."

"Is that why she is saying strange things?"

Anna nodded her head, "yes, I think she is delirious, oh I wish Mama was here, she would know what to do."

"So do you, don't you?"

Anna shrugged, "if I had willow bark I could bring her temperature down but……………."

"But what?"

"I think it is more serious than that herb could help, look at her arms" she pulled up the girl's sleeve.

In the dim light, James could just make out some spots, "she has a rash?"

"Yes, and not just on her arm, it's on her face, and throat and I fear all over her body."

"Mar, my tummy hurts" Molly mumbled.

Anna quickly felt molly's stomach, it was tight like the organs within were distended.

"What's wrong with her?"

Anna looked up at him, fear showed in her eyes, I fear, but I am not certain, but I think it is typhoid fever. She has all the symptoms."

James gulped, "but that is infectious isn't it?"

Anna nodded her head in the affirmative and looked at the bed where the children were sleeping.

----------------------

Anna tried to find a doctor, she really did. She wandered through unknown streets, knocking at the door of every house with one in, but none of them would come out, no one was interested in helping one such as Molly Malone.

And day by day the girl grew more ill, her skin had started turning yellow, and Anna feared that there was internal bleeding and even an intestinal perforation.

But surprisingly the rest of them stayed well.

"I wish I could get a doctor to come and see her" Anna said in the middle of the night, about a week after the girl had taken ill so badly. "I managed to find a willow tree and scraped off its bark, but the pain killer isn't strong enough, and she needs more help than that."

"You have done what you can" James responded.

"But it still isn't enough" she shook her head wearily.

"How do you think she came by it?"

"What, Typhoid Fever? Well one thing is certain, her illness isn't to do with this room, I went over it, but it didn't need it, it was really clean."

"But I thought Typhoid was caused by dirtiness" James frowned.

"It is, but just because this room is okay, doesn't mean that the rest of the place is, those stairs are a disgrace, and we don't know what the other rooms are like. Plus remember she worked out there, amongst the people, she could have picked it up off someone who didn't know how to be clean."

"I suppose" he looked at the children once again lying on the thin mattresses; they had put Molly in her own bed. "Do you think she will die?"

Tears appeared in Anna's eyes, and she nodded, "yes I think she probably will."

James put his arm around her, "it's alright" he tried to soothe.

"No it isn't, she is only a young girl, I'm five years older than her, she is too young to die."

"I know love, I know." James drew her even closer as he thought about how fleeting life could be.

"Hello" a quivering voice sounded from the bed.

Anna immediately on her feet ran over to the girl, "how are you feeling?"

"Like death" she tried to laugh, but it was obvious by the way her faced creased that it pained her too much. "I never thought I would make old bones, but I thought I had some time left." A tear fell down her cheek.

"You might get better."

"No I won't. You know that I am at death's door, but I am ready to die."

"Don't talk like that."

"Why? It isn't like I am going to make a miraculous recovery is it?"

Anna shook her head, "no, I don't think so."

Shock filled the young girl's face, and then acceptance, "thank you for telling me the truth."

Silence fell in the room, only interpreted by the sleep talking of one of the children, and the sound of people moving around outside.

Anna was about to leave the girl, thinking she had fallen asleep, when Molly grasped her hand, "you have to leave Ireland" she told her, an intensity in her eyes that belied what she was going through, "go to England. There is no future on our lands, but you and your family have to survive."

"We have no money."

"But if you did, you would leave Ireland?"

"Yes, I think we would."

"Then I want you to go, promise me you will, I want you all to live, and remember Molly Malone."

"I won't ever forget you Molly, you showed kindness when no one else did."

"And you have repaid that kindness ten times over" she started to cough again.

"I am a healer, it is my job to heal" Anna closed her eyes in pain, and then opening them again, carried on, "it is my job to try to heal."

"And I thank you; I would have hated to have gone through all this on my own. That is why I want you to have my money."

Anna frowned.

"It is under this bed, enough to get you all to England."

"You have money? I could get a doctor; one would come if there was the promise of payment."

"No, that would be like throwing the money out of the window. I don't want it lining some greedy doctor's pockets; I want it to be used to get you all somewhere safe."

"But…………"

"Don't waste money on the dead, spend it on the living."

"But you aren't dead."

"Maybe not, and there is nothing you or a doctor can do to make me well again. It is my time; that is the simple truth. Now will you take the money and use it to buy space on a boat?"

Anna nodded her head.

By the morning Molly was dead.

-------------

Anna wiped a tear from her eye as she saw the cart carrying the coffin containing Molly rumbled down the street. It was pulled by a cart horse, but the sturdiness of the animal was startling against the way the cart had been decorated.

Molly had been well loved, she had known many people through her profession of selling fish, and everyone had only good words to say of her. Many had not realised how ill she had been, so when news of her death filled the narrow roads, the outpouring of love was shown in the way her people made sure she had a good send off.

So the cart was covered in colourful material, and festooned with paper flowers.

But the fittest memorial of all was when a man, after taking off his cap, started singing.

"In Dublin's fair city,

where the girls are so pretty,

I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,

As she wheeled her wheel barrow,

Through streets broad and narrow,

Crying, 'Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!'"

"Alive, alive, oh,

Alive, alive, oh,

Crying 'Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh.'"

"She was a fishmonger,

But sure 'twas no wonder,

For so were her father and mother before,

And they each wheeled their barrow,

Through streets broad and narrow,

Crying, 'Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!'

"Alive, alive, oh,

Alive, alive, oh,

Crying 'Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh.'"

"She died of a fever,

And no one could save her,

And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.

Now her ghost will wheel her barrow,

Through streets broad and narrow,

Crying, 'Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!'"

And then everyone in the street, people hanging out of windows, people waiting in the cemetary, all started singing together.

"Alive, alive, oh,

Alive, alive, oh,

Crying 'Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh.'"

--------------------------

After the funeral, Anna started to make the preparations needed for their move to England.

But her movemnets were watched and someone put two and two together.

In the middle of the day, when she was hurrying through the cold, snow laden streets, a girl came up to her, "she left you money didn't she?"

"What?"

"That Molly Malone, she left you money."

Anna didn't' respond, she just tried to hurry on.

"Well me Mar says she wants her share."

"Pardon?" Anna stopped and stared at the girl.

"Are you deaf? Me Mar wants some of the money."

"What money?"

The girl started to laugh, but it wasn't full of joy, but menace.

"The money that Malone woman gave you for your children, and for my brothers and sisters."

"Your………….."

"Yeah, not met beofre have we? But those children you have, they belong to me Mar, and she wants them back, and she wants the money that the woman gave to you for them."

Anna shook her head, and tried once again to walk away.

The girl grapped her hand, and twisted it behind her back, "me Mar wants her children, and her money, and she wants it now. Or do you want me to break your arm?"

"Stop" Anna squealed, and when the pressure lessoned, as her arm was brought down a bit, she said, "I will give you money, but the children stay with me."

The girl yanked her arm up, and hissed in her ear, "you see that isn't what Mar wants. She wants her children as well as the money. And if she doesn't get them, then we will tell the authorities how you stole the children, and got a woman on her death bed to give you her money. How you let her die rahter than using it to get a doctor."

"I didn't."

"Was a doctor called? No!" the girl grinned maliciously. "So what is it to be?"

"I will take you to them" she sighed.

"That's better" the girl mocked, "be a good girl, and everything will be just fine."

Anna led the way to Molly's home, and opened the door so the girl could go into the small room.

"Pearl" one of the little ones shouted, and ran to the door and threw herself around the girl's legs.

"Hi kid, you are coming with me."

The young girl looked innocently up at her sister, and popped her thumb in her mouht.

"I ain't going anywhere with you" the eldest boy shouted, "you used to beat me something horrid."

The girl laughed, it was light and airy, but to Anna sounded hard, "I have changed lad, you will find I am a much better sister these days. I have missed you so much, and so has mother, she is waiting for you all to come to her."

"Mother was horrible too" the second eldest said, "she made us eat mud, when everyone knows it is bad for you."

"Mud, slud" the girl who had threatened Anna rolled her eyes, "Mars got the best steak at home cooking for you all. Are you going to come and eat?"

"I am" the little girl was now holding her sister's hand.

"And me" chorused two others.

In the end, three of the chidlren wanted to go back to their original family. Anna was far from happy about the situation but knew that there was nothing she could do about it.

"If those two aren't coming, then you need to pay for keeping them."

"No." Anna stalked up to the girl, and stared hard at her, "take the children if you must, and here take this money for them. But you will get no more, and if you don't treat theose children right………"

The girl suddenly shoved her face right into Anna's, pulling back her lip she said, "what? What are you going to do?" She growled, and then turned and stomped out of the room, taking her three youngest siblings with her.

Anna wanted to run after her, and snatch back the children, but she didn't. She just hoped they would be alright.

----------------

The eight of them were due to catch a boat the next day, and Anna was just finishing getting a few things ready. She was so busy in thought that at first she didn't hear the small knock on the door, but when the window dropped down, casting an icy draft over here, she ran to it and shut it, and then she heard the knock.

She opeened the door, and with a sgih said, "what do you want?" to the girl stood there.

"I have come for my brothers and sisters."

Anna shook her head, "no you can't have them Pearl. It is bad enough that you took the little ones, but the older two decided that they wanted to stay with us. They seemed afraid of you."

"Afraid? Pearl? She has them?" the girl put her hand to her mouth, "Oh no!"

Anna shook her head in confusion, and then said "and you aren't having any more money either."

As if coming out of a stupor, the girl reached out to clutch Anna's hand, "you have seen Pearl?"

Anna snatched her hand away, and looked at the girl iwht revoltion, "she is right in front of me" she challenged.

The girl gave an uncomfortable laugh, and then leant against the door frame, "I'm not Pearl" she said in a quiet voice.

"Of course you are Pearl" Anna scoffed and made to shut the door in the girl's face.

"No I am not" the girl put her arm through the door way so that if Anna did shut it the door would hurt her, "I am Opal, Pearl is my sister, my twin sister."

"Twin sister………"

Opal nodded, "and you gave my siblings to her."

"What?!"

"She will sell them you know. She has tried it before, I stopped her, but mother wasn't bothered, nothing concerned her just as though she had her poitin."

"Yes I've seen that."

"I work for a lady in a big house, and when I heard that my family had been evicted, I searched to find where they had gone. I met one of my cousins the other day and he told me where to find my mother. And I found her alright, in the bottom of her cups, said she had given the children to you."

"They have been living with me."

"And now you tell me you have given three of them to my sister."

"I'm sorry, she said that your mother had sent for them."

"She would."

"What are you going to do?"

"Me? Oh no, we. You are going to help me get them away from her, and to safety."

"But we are leaving for England in the morning."

"Well then we had better hurry. And once we have found them, we will join you in going to England."

"Have you got money for the boat?"

Opal shook her head.

"Oh, I wish I hadn't given your twin that money. It would have been enough to get us all to England, you as well. Plus we would have had enough to set us up there."

"Well then we need to get your money back then don't we?"

Anna nodded, and smiled. "I will get my husband to look after the rest of the children."

---------------------------

"Where will Pearl have taken them?" Anna asked as they ran along the narrow road.

Opal shook her head, and puffed, "I don't know. I didn't know she was even in Dublin, last I heard she was locked up in prison."

"Why?" Anna stopped for a moment, trying to catch her breath she wondered what Pearl was capable of.

"Like I told you, she tried to sell my brothers and sisters, well she kidnapped another child."

Anna gasped, "did they?"

Opal shook her head, "no he was already gone. The authorities locked her up partly to try to get her to tell them wehre he was, but they ddin't know my sister."

"So why is she out?"

"I don't know."

They started running again and soon came to a little inn, "do you want to stay out here?" Opal asked, "it is pretty rough inside."

"I want to find those children, and I don't care what I go through to rescue them."

"Okay" and Opal pulled open the door.

Rancid air shot out at Anna, the smell of unwashed bodies, of rotting food, and the stench of ale hit her nostrils, as if it was trying to push her backwards. But she squared her shoulders, put her head high, and walked in behind Opal.

"Oooh, who do we have here?" a man slurred next to her, grabbing her into his arms, and trying to kiss her with slobbery lips.

Anna pushed him off.

"Not good enough for us are you?" the man sneered, reaching out for her again, "I will teach you."

"No you won't" Opal pushed herself between Anna and the obviously drunken man, "leave her alone, she is with me."

"Oh Opal, I'd do anything for you" he slobbered.

"Tell me where my mother is."

"Oh her, the good time girl gone nasty. You will find her over there, by the bar, drinking her weight in ale, to drown her sorrows that no man will have her."

Anna looked towards the bar, and saw the woman that had been so nasty to her. But no longer was she the imposing woman she had been, now she seemed srivveled, old, sad.

She could see big fat tears flowing into a froth filled cup.

"Mother," Opal strode over to her.

"What do you want?" The woman was visibly shaken, "leave me alone Pearl."

"It's Opal mother, not Pearl" she pursed her lips. "Mother did you tell Pearl where the children were?"

The woman started to lean back on the chiar, "she promised me money if I told her, but I haven't seen her since then. She didn't give me anything and I am down to my last few pennies." She clutched Opal's dress, "have you got any money for your old Mar?"

Opal shook her mother off with disgust, "where was she staying Mother?" she asked sternly.

She said she had a room by the docks.

"Okay, thank you Mother."

The old woman looked up at her, but then saw Anna, "it is the witch, she stole my food, and my husband and children. She has taken everything."

"Leave her alone" Opal said with disgust, not giving her mother another moment of attention.

"Opal" the woman shouted, but Opal strode throught the doorway like she couldn't hear her name, or the desparation of the woman who said it.

Anna ran after her, and caught her up down the road.

"She was a good mother once you know" she suddenly murmered, seemingly lost in her memories, "when I was little, she looked after me, and my Dar. But she lost a child after she had me, stillborn, she changed, became a drunken old woman."

"Maybe she couldn't cope with what had happened.

"Possibly, but that is in the past."

By now they were near the Docks, and Opal started to talk to a big brawny sailor. When she came back she was smiling, "Pearl lives not far from here, and she has been seen in the company of children as recently as yesterday. Maybe everything will turn out okay."

"I hope so" Anna sighed, though she still worried.

--------------------------

"They're not here" Pearl glared at them when they confronted her, and then she started to laugh, "I sold them. By now they will be on their way to their new homes, as white slaves. There is quite a market you know, and the traders at the docks pay some decent money."

"You sold them?" Opal shouted, and pulling back her hand, forming it into a fist, she threw it forward and thumped her sister in the face.

"Leave her alone" Anna urged, trying to pull Opal of her sister, "just because she says they are already on their way doesn't mean they are, they could still be at the docks."

Opal shook her head, and grimaced at her sister, and then turned around, and took Anna's arm. She shouted over her shoulder, "you had better run Pearl, because if I ever see you again then I will kill you, and I warn you if those children have already gone, then I will set the authorities on you."

They ran out of the building, and down to the docks. Anna saw the boat that would take them in a few hours time to England, they were already restocking.

"We're looking for a boat full of children" Opal shouted to sailors, "or just three children."

"Aye" a scottish man came over, "I know a boat like that. There were quite a few young ones herded onto it earlier, me and the men thought it was a bit weird, but the man, a big foreign one, said that they were being taken to England, to get away from the famine."

Anna impatiently nodded her head, "which way is this ship?" she asked.

The man pointed the way.

"We need to tell the authorities" Anna urged.

"No! I will deal with it."

"What's going on miss?" the man wanted to know.

Anna hurriedly informed him what was happening.

"Yes, you need to get the authorities involved" the man agreed.

"We haven't got time" Opal shouted, and started to run.

"Will you tell them?" Anna asked.

The man nodded his head, "I will do it now."

Anna turned the way that Opal had run, and started after her.

-------------------

"That's the boat" Opal said.

For a moment they stared at the gloomy ship.

Opal turned to Anna, "you stay here, I will go on the boat and get them."

Anna shook her head, "I will come too."

"No, I'm used to creeping around, that is the life I have had, with a mother like mine, and a sister like Pearl, you have had a good life, you would never be able to sneak on. I will be back as soon as I can."

She watched the girl as she ran towards the boat.

-------------------------

Anna felt that she had been there for hours, but it had only been about one. She was trembling, not from the cold, but from fear.

"What if she doesn't get them out?" she muttered to herself, "what if they find her and take her too?"

She hoped that the sailor had called the authorities, but so far they hadn't turned up. For all she knew what he said was just talk. He might have had no intention of helping them. He might even have been in league with the traders and Opal could have gone into a trap.

"Come on Opal" she started to cry.

She knew that by now her husband must be really worried. He would be already getting the children ready to come down to the docks and board their boat.

But then she remembered that he had said, just as she left, that if she wasn't back by morning, he would meet her by the boat.

But they only had two hours before it was due to leave.

Another hour spent crouched behind a barrel and still no sign of Opal. The ship itself seemed very quiet, there had been no shouts of discovery, none of pursuit.

With only thirty minutes until the boat was due to leave, Anna contemplated missing it, or leaving Opal and the children to their fate and joining her family.

She didn't know what to do, how to choose.

Just then the anchor started winding up, and the crew started to move around.

And then there was a shout from within.

"Oh no, they have caught her" Anna sobbed.

"No they haven't."

Anna turned around at Opal's voice, and shrieked when she saw her standing their with her three youngest siblings, "you did it."

"Hush!" Opal looked fearfully at the boat where men were already starting to stream out. "We have to go, now."

Together they ran, Opal holding the hand of one child, and carrrying the youngest, while Anna carried the other. They ran towards the boat due to leave for England.

"There's only a short time before they leave, we aren't going to make it" Anna shouted above the sounds of gulls squarking.

"Yes we will."

Anna could see James, standing next to the boat, looking for them. His eyes flitted up and down the boat, anxious showing in his gaze.

"James" Anna screamed, "get on the boat, we are coming."

James turned at the sound of her voice, and stared at the women and children running towards him, followed at a distance by men waving cutlasses and swords.

He hurried the children on to the boat.

Anna, Opal and the children arrived at the boat.

"Tickets" a man demanded.

"What?"

"Tickets."

"No!"

"You haven't got tickets?"

She shook her head.

"Well you can't get on."

"But…………….." She looked around at the men coming close.

"Please!" Opal pleaded.

"If you haven't got a ticket, you can't get on."

The men were close now.

"But they will kill us."

"That isn't my concern, it is more than my jobs worth to let you on without a ticket."

Anna stared at the man in shokc.

"For goodness sake man, let them on the boat" a man's voice shouted down, "before there is a murder here, and the authorities tie up our boat in their investigation."

"Yes Captain" the man said, and waved them on.

They ran up the gangplank.

"You too man" the Captain yelled, "it is time to leave. We have all our passengers anyway."

The man hurried up to the boat with an evident air of relief, and just before the men arrived, the gangplank and anchor had been pulled up, and the boat was adrift.

From a distance Anna could see the men angrily shaking their fist at them. And then she saw Pearl appear. It looked like she was trying to appease them, and they were having none of it.

As they moved further away, she saw the authorities arrive and arrest the men and Pearl.

"Good, I'm glad about that."

"It is good that you are happy, but we have the matter of payment for this trip."

Anna turned around and saw the Captain.

"My wife has a ticket" James said, showing it.

"And what about these?" He pointed at Opal and the other three children.

"We never managed to get tickets for them, there was a problem."

"Okay, then you need to think of how you will pay."

"I could work" Opal suggested.

The Captain looked the girl up and down, not unkindly just accessing. "I'm sure you could, and if this journey was longer I would take you up on your offer. But England is only a short way away, and I need payment."

"Can we think about it?" Anna asked.

"Of course."

Anna watched the Captain leave and then turned to take one last look at Ireland, she could see Pearl being led away.

And then she saw someone else.

"It can't be."

The figure was waving, and pointing towards a pocket on her dress.

Anna put her hand in her dress pocket, and drew out a purse that hadn't been there. It was full of money.

"Captain" she shouted.

He turned around, "yes."

"We can pay after all" she gave him the extra coins.

"Good" he took the money. "You have been given a cabin below deck, but you have to share it with an old couple."

"Oh we don't mind" Anna said happily.

And then she turned back to the girl still waving at them from the shores of Ireland.

"Thank you" she sighed, "thank you Molly Malone."

"What's that dear?" James quireed.

"Nothing" she grinned up at him, "shall we go and find our cabin?"

A sailor showed them the way. A couple were sitting on a bed in the cabin.

"Mama?"

And she was enveloped into the arms of her parents, glad to be finally together again.

And in that embrace, with her family around her, she heard the sound of a girl, one she would never know but was her kin, her descendant.

"Leave me alone, I was only trying to get something to feed my sisters and brothers."


	19. Susanna, 1787AD

**Susanna 1787AD**

** Susanna looked at the bread with longing, its smell filled her nostrils and made her stomach clench with hunger. She could almost taste it, already she could feel its texture in her mouth. And all the while she thought of her starving siblings, her hallowed eyed mother and her dead father. They needed food, they needed help, and only she could give it. Making up her mind, she crept over to the stall, and watched for the baker to turn his back, then she grabbed a loaf, thrust it into her apron and started running.**

** 'Thief' she heard behind her but she did not turn around to see if they were after her, she just ran faster.**

** Soon she came to an alleyway, and ran down it. Hiding there, she pushed herself behind a coal shed, shaking as she considered what would happen if they found her. **

*******

** Susanna brushed the dirt off her hair and clothes. She shook out her crumbled dress, trying to ignore the fraying along the bottom of it. She had waited for ages before she had decided that she was safe, the men had even come passed where she was, but they had not found her. She was just glad that they had not had dogs.**

** She noticed that the sun had started to go down, so she started to hurry home, knowing that there would be hungry bellies and mouths there.**

** When she came to the little house she called home, she stepped over the mud pools and rubbish and excrement, and opened the battered door. Sound accosted her ears as soon as she went in. Her mother's hacking cough, and her siblings pitiful cries for attention.**

** She sighed and went to the fireplace, and took down the knife that was kept there. Then taking it and the bread to the table, that wobbled as one leg was shorter than the rest, she started to cut it into thin slices.**

** 'Hello love' her mother hobbled in from the only other room in the house. Her eyes alighted on the bread, 'you managed to get some bread? How did you manage to get the money for it?'**

** Susanna said nothing. **

** Her mother's eyes narrowed, 'did you steal it?'**

** Susanna dragged her eyes to her mother, 'yes' she muttered, 'I begged all day but no one gave me any money. So I had to steal it.'**

** 'Oh love, I wish you wouldn't. I am so afraid that you will get caught and sent to New gate prison.'**

** 'Mama, the children need feeding and so did you.'**

** 'I know' her mother sat on the only chair, and sighed, 'it should be me providing for you all, or your father. If only...........'**

** 'If only he had not died, yes Mama, I wish he was here too.'**

*******

** That night she lay in the bed that her mother had shared with her father and thought about her life. London was such a harsh place to live, no one cared for anyone else, no one wanted to help. She felt that she was all alone, yes she had her family but they relied on her, she had no one that could take the strain from her.**

** Each day she walked up and down the streets of London, begging those who were better of for help, but they just turned their noses up at her. Worse was the men who eyed her, laughed at her when she asked for money and told her that they needed something in return. She had been propositions far too many times, and nearly dragged into the numerous alleys quite a long time. She did not know how long she could hold out before doing what they wanted. She needed to feed her family, and it was looking like there was only one way of doing that.**

** She fell asleep with tears in her eyes.**

*****  
The next morning she dragged her weary body out of bed, and crept into the kitchen. It was up to her to start the fire, though it was a pitiful one due to the amount of wood her younger siblings had collected the day before. She threw a couple of twigs on it, and warmed her hands. **

** Knowing she couldn't stay in front of the warmth, she picked up the bucket and walked outside towards the communal well. Others were up at this early hour, men and women and even some children, all jostling for a place to draw their water. She stood back to let them do so, but when the woman pushed past her, making her own way to the well, she waited no longer. She joined the melee.**

** She managed to get her bucket tied to the straps that would lower it, making sure it was tight, she started to lower it down. Down in the deep darkness, she heard it splash as it encountered the bottom, wound it a bit more down, and then started bringing it up again.**

** 'Hurry up' a woman shoved her,'we all need water, not just you.'**

** Susanna shrugged her shoulders, knowing better than to argue back and wound her bucket up faster. When it came to the top, she started to untie it, and someone banged into her, At the very last minute she managed to catch its handle before it fell down the well to be lost forever, and lugged it over the side, splashing water down her dress.**

** 'Move' a man shouted at her, but she nimbly got out of his way before he could push her and make her lose her precious water. She started to walk back to her home.**

** Once inside she poured it into the cooking bowl that always hung over the fire. She went over to the bag of oats, untwisted it, and grabbed a couple of cupfuls, and put them in the pan. **

** Then she sat down in front of the fire, and waited for it to cook.**

*******

** She was awoken by the sound of her brothers and sisters giggling as they entered the kitchen. **

** 'Susanna' one of them immediately came over and sat on her lap.**

** 'Hello Bessie' she ruffled the young girl's hair, 'did you sleep well?'**

** Bessie was eight years old, half Susanna's age, and the youngest of the family. She had bright blue eyes and blonde hair, and looked a mirror image of how Susanna had looked at her age.**

** 'Mama is coughing again' one of her brother said, peering into the bubbling pot of porridge. 'Shall I take her some of this?'**

** Susanna gently put Bessie on the ground and stood up, 'I think that is a wonderful idea Jamie, I will ladle some out for her and you can take it into her.'**

** She got down a bowl, and spooned some in, putting a bit of honey on top. 'That will soothe her throat' she smiled and passed it to the ten year old boy.**

** Jamie immediately took it to the other room, Susanna could hear him trying to wake their mother, and then her mumbles as she sat up and started to eat.**

** She smiled, and got down the rest of the bowls, filling each one with porridge. 'Here you are Bessie' she put a bowl on the table for her sister.**

** 'I want some too' her twelve year old sister said.**

** 'I know' Susanna shook her head, 'I have it right here.'**

** Jamie came back and started eating. **

** Susanna put her own bowl on the table and passed the last one to her fifteen year old brother Robert.**

** Robert wolfed it down, and was out of the door before she had even put her spoon to her mouth. 'See you later' he said as he made his way to his job at the docks. **

** Soon she was saying her own farewells, as she left the home for the day.**

*******

** It had been a day of fruitless wandering, she had gone to factory after factory, home after home looking for work but there was none to be had. She had also spent some time begging again, but all she had received was a ripped and muddied dress after a rich young man had ran passed her, his arm outstretched which had made her fall. **

** Now she stood in the place she had stood the day before watching the baker serve his customers. He was the only one out that afternoon, all the rest had closed early having sold all their bread. But this baker was known to put grit in his bread, he wasn't so popular and still had some left.**

** She had considered taking some fruit, but had already seen a young boy caught red handed when he had upturned the apple cart. She had thought about grabbing one of the rolling apples but a girl had been to fast her her.**

** She saw the baker was talking to a customer so she started to crept forward. She went behind the cart this time, so he wouldn't be able to see her. She reached out for a loaf.**

** A hand fastened itself around her wrist and pulled her up. The baker was stood in front of her, his face red with anger and eating too much.**

** 'Little thief' he sneered, 'you came back. Your sort always do, but not any more, its New gate prison for you.'**

** Susanna tried to struggle, she kicked out at the man, but he held her wrist as if his hand was an iron fetter.**

*******

** Put in the prison without a trial or even seeing a judge, Susanna had been thrown into a cell and left to rot. And it smelt like something was already doing that. Squashed in with unwashed bodies, and excrement and mouldy food that covered the floor. A river of urine flowed down the middle. **

** 'What are you in for?' a woman came up to her, a kind look on her face.**

** 'I tried to steal a loaf of bread' Susanna said mournfully, wondering how her mother and siblings were right now.**

** 'Oh dear, that is terrible. A young girl like you should be enjoying the outside air.' She looked down at the ground, 'nice boots' she commented.**

** Susanna looked down too. And that was all it took, a momentary lapse of concentration and the woman hit her over the head.**

** She awoke her head half in the stream of urine, and a breeze blowing around her toes.**

** And she heard the woman squawking, laughing about how gullible young girls are.**

*******

** When she had been there a week, she had learnt the ropes, she knew that during the day it was best to pretty herself as much as possible and present herself outside for those walking passed the prison to stare at. She would drop a curtsy, and hope they would give her some money. And the young gentlemen often did. Especially if she revealed a little of her ankle.**

** And then at night, she would pay for food, pay for a bed and a blanket and sleep as much as was possible in a place that smelt so bad. Or had lice and rats.**

** And each day she saw new people come in, and the old ones go for trial or execution. She would hear them ****screaming before they were hung, or would smell the ash in the air from those who had been burned alive.**

** It was a truly terrible place, and the jailers made it far worse. Every night they would go around singing, 'all you that in the condemned hold do lie, prepare you, for tomorrow you will die, watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near that you before th'Almighty must appear. Examine well yourselves, in time repent, that you may not t'eternal flames be sent; and when St Sepulchre's bell tomorrow tolls, the Lord have mercy on your souls.'**

** And then came the day when they came for her.**

*******

** She stood in front of a judge, his powder wig sending white dust into the air as he spoke.**

** 'You have been accused of theft, how do you plead?'**

** Tears in her eyes, and shakes in her hands, she gulped and then managed to croak out 'guilty.' she looked at the floor with embarrassment and shame.**

** 'Louder' the judge shouted.**

** 'Guilty' she repeated, louder this year.**

** 'Guilty what?'**

** Susanna frowned, 'guilty and very sorry' she answered.**

** 'I am very glad that you feel sorry for your crimes' he sneered, 'though you can know that I will not give you a lighter sentence because of it, but I did not mean that. What you speak to me you will speak with respect. You will say Guilty My Lord, now again.'**

** 'I am guilty my Lord.'**

** 'Better. Now we will hear from your accuser, a Mister Jabez Taylor.'**

** The baker walked up to the witness stand, 'that girl' he pointed at her, 'has been stealing my bread for months, which in itself is a big enough crime to warrant that she be executed, but she also tricked my lady wife and stole from our home. Even at this moment, the poor lady is besides herself, and has to be comforted by her relatives night and day. Thankfully after seeing such wickedness in the world in that girl, we have seen great kindness in them, they have been looking after us most adequately.'**

** The judge looked at Susanna, 'you stole from this great man's home?'**

** She shook her head, I have never been to his home.'**

** 'The minx' her accuser said, 'she lies.'**

** 'Yes, she has already admitted to her crimes.'**

** 'Indeed' her accuser said smugly.**

** 'I admitted to stealing a loaf of bread, not to any of the other things.'**

** The judge banged his hammer, 'enough from the prisoner. She will only talk when she is told to. Now what to do with you? I could execute you of course, or have your hands chopped of as befits a thief but....'**

** The whole court leant nearer as if they were listening to some juicy gossip.**

** 'I think a better punishment for you. There is a ship called the Friendship that will be part of the first fleet that travels to Botany Bay in New Holland. You will be a indentured servant on it, to work until your crimes have been paid for, a period of fifteen years after which time you can return to England or make your life there.' He banged his hammer again, 'you will be transported.'**

*******

** They were packed into the hold of the ship in even more numbers than they had been in prison. Seventy six men, and twenty one women convicts to share one living place. And a rocking, swaying and wet one at that. **

** She had managed to send her mother a letter before they were to leave, explaining all that had happened, and hoping that they would be alright. She was thankful that the woman had taught her the skill. She had managed to convince a sailor with a pretty smile, and he had returned with her brother. The sailor had escorted her up on deck and allowed her five minutes to talk to him, though he had kept an eye on her the whole time.**

** 'Robert' she sobbed, 'oh Robert, I am so sorry.'**

** 'Hush' he had comforted her. 'Oh Susanna, it is I that should be sorry, I am the man of our home, I should have brought more money home so that you wouldn't have had to resort to.............'**

** 'Stealing' she stared at her toes.**

** He lifted her head with his hand under her chin, 'I will look after them' he promised.**

** And then she had to go, and he too. Susanna wondered at her last sight of him, if she would ever see any of her family again.**

*******

** It was a cold windy day when they set off, not that the prisoners knew anything about that, fettered as they were. So many human bodies together heated the whole area so many of the men, and even some of the women had removed clothes.**

** Susanna wasn't going to do that. She was going to keep her clothes on, and keep out of the way of the obvious trouble makers. There was a group of young girls like her, many of them accused of things they had not done, or sentenced for the most smallest crimes. She tended to talk to them most, playing cards to while away the time, or other games. Sometimes others would come into their group, but they were met with suspicion, all of them had had experiences like Susanna's one of being tricked and losing her shoes.**

** In fact she still did not have any, and the rest of the convicts had started calling her Barefoot Susie. But then a man approached her, a pair of ladies boots under his arm.**

** 'Are you Susanna?' he asked, but knew already, he could see her toes.**

** 'What do you want?'**

** 'I thought you could do with something on your feet, before you get those pretty feet hurt.'**

** She eyed him, 'and what do you want in return?'**

** He smiled, 'just to help a beautiful lady is reward enough.'**

** Susanna continued to stare at him with a look on her face that said she did not trust him. 'Really?' she said sarcastically.**

** 'Well, I have heard that you can write' he mumbled, 'I can't but I want to learn. I reckon that a man that can read and write and do basic sums would do much better in this new land than someone who only lives off their strength alone. Will you teach me?'**

** She smiled, and took the boots, 'thank you' she said, as she nodded her head, 'and yes I will teach you, if you can learn.'**

*******

** She got to know the man very well over the next weeks and months as they travelled to their new home. She found out his name was Henry, but he was known as Harry. And he was twenty four, six years older than her. He had originally been sentenced to death, for burglary, but had it commuted to being transported for a period of fifteen years. Like her. And he told her all about what had happened, how he had been a businessman, working hard for a living, always truthful and honest, he never cheated anyone whether they were rich or poor. But then a man had started to work for him, to do the account books which he couldn't do because he had never learnt. He had been recommended by a friend, who also used his services. But the employee had cheated him, siphoning off money and goods, and taking them home. Harry had become suspicious when a statue of Jesus he had been saving to give to the Church went missing. And when he went to see his friend he saw the two of them through the window, the employee giving the statue to his friend who put it on a table where the son of the house, a five year old, picked it up and started playing with it.**

** 'I should have knocked on the door, and demanded it back, or gone to the authorities myself, but I got angry. So I went around the back, to the servant's quarters and crept in when they all went out. Unfortunately my friend came back and caught me red handed, the statue in my hand. He wouldn't listen to my reasons, he accused me of lying, and put me in prison.'**

** 'Oh that is horrible' Susanna said.**

** 'So now you know why I am so adamant about learning to read and write, I am never going to allow myself to be put in that situation again.'**

*******

** By the middle of the journey, they had become more than friends. It was October by then, and the sea churned them around like a washer woman would wash clothes. Sometimes it felt like someone was doing that to them. Susanna's only comfort was the feelings she was developing towards Harry. And he towards her.**

** And then the storm happened. It was a particularly wild night, the wind was fierce tossing them around in the sea, the waves were high, rearing over the boat and the rain hit the deck like bullets. Susanna felt that any moment they would capsize and all drown, even now the hold was filling with water not from the sea underneath them but from the waves that splashed over the deck and then dribbled downwards. She was wet through and cold, her blanket was dripping and the tears were falling from her eyes.**

** Harry held her in his arms, rubbed her shivering shoulders, never complained himself, but comforted her.**

** All around her people were being sick from the motion, many had all ready been ill anyway, some had died, but now everyone was turning a shade of greeny blue.**

** A woman at the other end of the hold was screaming, ripping her hair out of her head, and shrieking that they would all die.**

** 'Don't listen to her' Harry put his hands over her ears, 'we will be just fine. This storm will finish, and then the sailing will be smooth again. We will arrive in Botany Bay, you'll see.'**

** 'But will we arrive as corpses?'**

** he smoothed her wet hair out of her eyes, 'I won't let anything happen to you. Do you believe me?' He stared into her eyes.**

** 'Yes' she shivered, and started to shake when he lowered his lips down to hers, and kissed her.**

*******

** Things moved quickly after that, Harry arranged a bit of privacy for them, and by the time they arrived in Botany Bay, Susanna was three months pregnant.**

** When they got off the boat it was to a scalding sun, and unbearably hot weather that their pale skin, especially after being in the hold of a ship for so long, was not used to. Many of them resembled lobsters within no time, with itching peeling skin.**

** Susanna's hair grew brittle in the heat, but thankfully she did not go red but turned a pale chestnut brown. Sun kissed Harry would say as he hugged her and then groaned with the blisters on his skin. **

** So Susanna ever mindful of others went to search out help for him, in between the light work she did in the fields now being planted with European grain. **

** Once they had arrived in Botany Bay, she had started to talk to those she had not communicated with before. There was a middle age woman who she went to regarding her pregnancy, that they called Mad Mary the healer. She had brought all sorts of herbs with her, and within a few days of arriving had started planting them in a little garden. When she heard about how bad Harry was suffering, she gave Susanna some burdock leaves in the understanding that the bright young girl would come back not just for maternal help but to learn the skills of a healer herself. Mary told her that she felt that something within Susanna was telling her that she needed to be taught.**

*******

** Within a month of arriving, the governor arranged a mass wedding for many of the single girls were pregnant.**

** And of course that included Susanna. Though for her, she already had a groom, some had them chosen for them, with no say on what they looked like, how they smelt or what sort of man they were.**

** On the day, Susanna wore her normal dress, though she had managed to wash it and herself in a nearby stream. She had also picked up some shells from the beach and had someone weave them into her hair.**

** She looked much better than some of the girls, many had ragged dresses, rips up the front that had been sew with big loops, and tangled hair.**

** And Harry stood out amongst the men, his skin was no longer red, the burdock had soothed it. Now it was turning the same colour as her skin. His hair was red though, and always had been.**

*******

** 'Do the grooms take the brides? The Governor asked.**

** 'We do.' They said this at differing times, some had to be kicked to get them to respond.**

** 'And do the brides take the grooms?'**

** 'We do.'**

** Susanna gazed up into the eyes of her beloved as she held his hand. He squeezed it gently and bent down and kissed her lips.**

** 'Arrrh' a voice screamed out.**

** Susanna looked towards the noise with shock, she saw Mary running towards a heavily pregnant girl who having just got married was having her child right after the ceremony.**

*******

** All those that had got married had been given their own hut to live in. Susanna loved having her own space. And a husband as well. No longer would she have to live in the communal tents with the other young girls, haphazardly guarded by the guards that impregnated more girls than protected them. **

** The hut was only one room, with a sleeping corner that was spread with straw. She would cook outside, and still use the latrines some of the men had dug when they first arrived. But that was how life would be until the two of them had finished their indenture. Then they might even be given some land and allowed to build their own home. Oh she had plans but they were for the years to come, not for now.**

*******

** The healer Mary started to teach Susanna all that she knew. As well as the Burdock, she had brought many herbs from England and slowly she started to tell her about the medicinal qualities to them.**

** 'This is Hyssop' she pointed to a green and purple plant, 'it is good for breathing problems, it clears the chest of congestion.'**

** 'Hyssop' Susanna memorised.**

** 'And this is Yarrow' it was a pretty white flowered plant, 'pulverised it is good for pain relief.'**

** She pointed to another plant, a long stemmed one with small yellow flowers, 'this is Agrimony, it helps when a patient has bruises and more importantly if you suspect an internal injury.'**

** This was how her lessons went, as her child kicked inside her she learned all about healing and started to help the people in the settlement like Mary already did.**

** But where they were changed the way Mary taught her, for the woman was inquisitive and soon worked out the medicinal properties of many of the native plants. Some were very similar to what she already knew, but some she knew not, but thankfully had a feel for these things.**

** 'I found a new plant last week' she told Susanna when the girl came for her usual lesson. **

** She was eight months pregnant by then, felt as big as a cow, and longed for her baby to be born. Not just so the ordeal would be over but so she could hold the little one that lay secure in her belly until that time.**

** 'What is the plant?' she asked.**

** 'This one here' she pointed at a large shrub which had pointed leaves and a tiny white flower. 'If you feel the leaves they are oily, but if you smell it you will know you wouldn't want to eat anything cooked in it. But when I found it last week, and discovered its oil, no insects bothered me for the whole day, and again yesterday. I think it is a repellent to them.'**

** 'Oh wow, that is wonderful' she said as she thought about how the bugs annoyed her, biting her to shreds. 'I wonder if I could hang some up around our hut' she said already snapping off the leaves and sticking them in her apron pocket.**

*******

** It was on a day slightly reminiscent of England, with rain falling from the sky, and a slight nip to the air, compared to scorching heat, that she got the first pains.**

** She had been spending so much time with the healer Mary, learning from her that she knew straight away what it signified. She did not think she had an upset stomach or need to relieve her bowels, she knew that she was in labour and soon the child would be born. And so she started to make her way over to the woman's hut, stopping each time a bone clenching contraction rocked her body. Getting dress, she leant on the wall, gritting her teeth against the pain and trying to breath. It was easier said than done. The next time the pains came she was just coming out of her hut, so she clutched the flimsy door, digging her fingers into the soft wood so much that she made a hole. Going past a tree, she bent double ripping her nails on its bark and carving little half moon shapes into it. At the well that her husband had helped built a pain came that was so bad she nearly fell down into the water. Each time the pain came stronger than the last time, and lasted longer. And the gaps were becoming shorter. **

** 'Help me' she tried to shout but the pain was taking too much of her energy up to even squeak out her words.**

** And so she concentrated on her journey, walking quickly between contractions and falling to the ground and curling up in excruciating pain when they came upon her.**

** She was half way to Mary's hut when she realised that she couldn't hold on any more. The contractions had become non stop and she felt a pressure between her legs that urged her to push. **

** 'Not yet' she moaned, having heard stories about women who had given birth with no help, and the baby or the mother had died, or both. She let out a scream, using every last inch of her energy.**

** And then miraculously, she heard running footsteps.**

** A woman appeared, 'oh it looks like someone is having a baby' she hooted.**

** 'Please' she reached up a hand towards the woman, 'I need Mary, Mary the healer.'**

** 'Yes I can see that' the woman frowned, 'but she isn't here, and I am. Old Bertha will help you. I know lots about birthing babies, birthed twelve of my own.' Her eyes glinted, 'though all of them died bar one, don't know why.' **

** She crouched down next to Susanna, who grimaced when she saw the woman's dirty hands, and lice crawling in her hair. 'No' she shook her head, 'I need Mary, and I need my husband Harry.'**

** 'Oh you don't want a man watching when you are giving birth, they will never go near you again. Too much blood for the sensitive souls I reckon.'**

** 'I. Need. Mary' she said through the pain, 'and. Harry. Please.'**

** 'Fine' the woman got up, 'I will go and get Mary, don't know your husband, though I am sure I would like to' she grinned cheekily, 'I'm sure he could do with a good woman.'**

** Susanna blinked when the woman left, and then groaned at the pain.**

*******

** Pain, pressure, she felt like she was floating above herself, in a different world, she could see the pallor of her skin, the sweat on her brow, how she clutched her stomach and rocked backwards and forwards. But even in this dreamlike trance, she could still feel the pain. She was mad, she knew it, mad, totally and utterly mad. She did not want this baby, no she did not, not the pain, she wanted birth to be peaceful, and calm, not filled with an ache that did not go away. She felt so alone, more so than anyone had ever felt before she reckoned.**

** 'Please' she clutched at the sky, trying to catch the clouds and stuff them in her mouth to take away the pain.**

** She knew that she was delirious, that she was thinking strange thoughts, that everything was out of focus, everything strange. The sky had turned a violent red, though she knew that it was more to do with the throbbing in her head than the actual colour.**

** And then seemingly at a distance she felt a pair of clean cool hands on her stomach. She heard words, mumbled, they made no sense to her. And then strong arms picked her up and carried her somewhere.**

** She was placed on a soft bed, as if the clouds had come down not to be consumed but to cushion her. Instinctively her hands reached up and grabbed the wooden headboard, putting her fingers through the slats, she screamed.**

*******

** 'She is doing fine' she heard being said. 'she is nearly fully dilated.'**

** She opened her eyes, things seemed a little clearer now. 'Mary' she managed to croak.**

** The woman rushed over to her, 'hush now' she smoothed her hair of her forehead, 'you are in labour Susanna, we found you by the river, rolling around the ground mumbling something about clouds.'**

** 'I feel a bit better.'**

** 'That will be the willow bark' Mary smiled, 'I managed to get you to drink some before. Now would you like a drink? I have a Ginseng tea cooling for you that will give you strength for what is coming.'**

** 'Coming?' Susanna frowned.**

** Mary shook her head, 'the baby' she said simply.**

** 'Oh' was all Susanna could say.**

*******

** She had to push, she knew she had to. She had no choice. Closing her eyes she bore down towards the pain, and miraculously it seemed to go away. Every time she pushed the contraction was not so noticeable, as if it knew that she was working with it, and it too focused itself into the baby being delivered.**

** And then she felt a burning sting between her legs, and somewhere off in the distance she heard Mary's voice say 'Pant.'**

** She could feel the woman's hands down there, her fingers pulling. She groaned.**

** 'it is nearly over Susanna' she heard, and concentrated on that.**

** 'Okay the baby's head is delivered, next contraction I want you to push' she heard Mary instructing her but she did not need to, Susanna's body was instinctively taking over.**

** Pain, again, ripping through her stomach, she pushed, harder, harder, stronger, and then something came away from her. A gush of water splattered her legs, and the weak cry of a newborn entered her ears.**

** She snapped her eyes open, and stared at the little red faced naked baby, her arms waving around, crying, obviously using every bit of her lung capacity, and Susanna realised, breathing.**

** Mary wrapped the child in a soft sheet, and passed it to Susanna.**

** 'What is it?'**

** Mary smiled, 'why don't you look?'**

** Susanna pushed aside a bit of the sheet. 'its a boy' she said, he's a boy.' She heard sobbing coming from behind her, and realised that she was leaning against someone. She twisted her head to look. 'Harry, its a boy, you have a son.'**

** 'I do at that' he kissed her cheek, 'I have a beautiful son, and a very clever wife.'**

*******

** Susanna carried her son in a sheet tied to her chest as she went collecting herbs with Mary. He was a happy child and at six months had just discovered his toes, though she had no idea how he managed to twist around to taste them trapped as he was against her. But he did.**

** They had named the little boy Robert after her brother, he who she had not seen in so long. It was a year since they had arrived in New Holland now, at the infamous Botany Bay, and nearly two since she had been caught trying to steal bread. She missed her family, but she had a new one now and that comforted her a lot. Still she wondered about them, Bessie would be ten now, was she wandering the streets like Susanna used to? Was Jamie working with Robert now? And was her mother still alive? All questions that she longed to know the answer to, but knew she never would.**

** And she had learnt so much from Mary, and was pretty confident that if she could have gone back to England she could have helped her mother and cure that cough she had had. She would have given her Elecampane mixed with honey, though obviously money would have been an issue. But what she knew couldn't help the woman who she had had to leave behind.**

** 'This is the tree' Mary said, bringing her out of her reverie, 'I saw one of the natives, aborigines, scraping bark of it yesterday, and I wondered if they use it for pain relief like we use the Willow.'**

** 'Could be.'**

** Robert fiddled at her chest, and started to whimper, so she pulled her top down a bit, and put a nipple into his mouth, where he started to suckle. She pulled the sheet over herself and him to protect her from prying eyes.**

** 'I wanted to stop her and ask but of course we don't speak their language or they ours so it would have been impossible.'**

** 'We should learn it.'**

** 'What?' Learn to speak their words? Surely it would be better to teach them English?'**

** 'Maybe, but they were here first, it would be politer if we made the effort, and then can teach them English once we understand theirs.'**

** 'I suppose, though the Governor might not like any of us whites talking to them at all. But they seem a pretty peaceful people.'**

** 'I agree' Susanna grinned, 'but I think you should approach the Governor, I seem to be a bit busy.'**

** Mary glanced towards the bump in the sheet, 'you are a bit' she smiled back.'**

** 'But for now you could take some of the bark, and boil it like you do Willow bark, see what it looks like.'**

** 'Yes, and if someone has an external injury then I could try it on the wound without risking their health with the unknown.'**

** 'And what shall we call this tree?'**

** 'The woman, the aborigine, bent down before it, she said the word Marjarla, I think that is probably what they call it. It is the Marjarla tree.'**

** 'The Marjarla tree' Susanna repeated and then seeing Robert had gone to sleep covered herself up again. 'You had better go and see the Governor' she told Mary.**

*******

** Robert was just starting to walk, he would toddle around their hut, his hands held upwards towards the sky and then trip over something and start to cry. That was why they were at the beach that day, the sand meant that if he fell, and he did even more than usual, it meant he wouldn't be hurt. She had just picked him up for the tenth time in an hour when she heard a shout behind her.**

** 'Ship.'**

** She turned around and saw a man pointing out to sea, turning around she saw that there was indeed a ship coming. She picked Robert up, and tickled him under the chin, 'food Robert' she grinned, 'the supply ship is here.'**

** She ran down to the dock that had been built in the year and a half they had been there, but couldn't get close, it was already crowded with cheering people.**

** The ship came closer, and she could see women lining the deck.**

** 'Why are there women up there?' a man shouted. 'if that is the supply ship then there would only be men.'**

** 'And look at the way they are dressed' a woman yelled and pointed.**

** Susanna squinted her eyes, the women were dressed strangely, in fact they looked half dressed. She could even see some of them were bare chested.**

** 'Its a floating brothel' an older man said quietly, with disgust, 'it is not the food, its just women, more mouths to feed.'**

** And times had been hard, this land was harsh, and though they tried to grow food, it often wilted in the heat. They had even approached the aborigines, after Mary suggested it, and learnt their language and some of their ways, but they had not been able to help in farming. Their community was a hunter/ gatherer one.**

** 'Send them back' a woman shrieked, 'we don't want whores here, we have enough already.' She glanced at Susanna, and then a haughty look on her face, turned away.**

** Susanna shook her head at the ignorance of the richly dressed woman. 'We can't send them back' she shouted, 'and even if they are whores, they are still human beings and will need our help.'**

** 'we can barely help ourselves' a man said.**

** 'I'll help myself' another said, putti8ng his hand where he left no one in any illusion of what he meant.**

** 'Say, more women' a young lad clapped hands with another. 'And whores!'**

** Susanna had seen enough, taking Robert's hand, she took him back to their hut, determined not to leave that night for she was pretty sure that come dark, society would break down into lust.**

*******

** She had been right, debauchery did reign that night, she was very happy when Harry walked through the door, but wasn't so glad when he told how he had been propositioned by at least twenty of the women.**

** 'They really are whores' he said, 'prostitutes of London, but brought here to rid England of them. They are our problem now.'**

** 'Surely they are not all prostitutes?'**

** 'By the way the men are handling them, I hope they are. If there is an innocent girl mixed amongst them, she won't be for long.'**

** 'Oh that is horrible' Susanna said, remembering that she had been a virgin when she had boarded the ship. **

** The Governor is trying to keep things calm, and has managed to take some of the girls away from the crowd. Terre was even an eleven year old in there you know.'**

** 'An eleven year old' she gasped, 'is she safe? She hasn't been harmed has she? You know?'**

** He shook his head, 'though on all accounts she is a bit of a nasty one. Got sent here for stripping sand stealing the clothes of an eight year old. Goes by the name of Mary.'**

** 'Is she nasty though? Or was she starving?'**

** Harry sighed, 'yes she probably was.'**

*******

** Violent knocking awoke her in the middle of the night. Susanna threw a sheet over her shoulders and held tightly around her body to protect her nakedness. She only had one dress, and refused to sleep in it.**

** Robert had woken with the noise, but already she saw Harry picking him up, and comforting him. He walked towards the door, passing the boy to her on his way.**

** 'Who is it?' she called, hoping it wasn't the men that had turned so nasty the evening before.**

** 'Susanna' a voice came through the wood, 'the healer Mary has sent for you. She needs you up at the Governor's house. They have been attacked.'**

** Susanna looked at Harry and nodded her head, 'open it' she said.**

** Just a little bit at first, he opened the door, Susanna could see the white face of a woman out there.**

** 'You have to hurry' she said, 'men attacked the Governor's house in the night, many are hurt, Mary the healer needs you.'**

** 'Why would anyone attack his house?' She frowned.**

** 'They knew the young girls were in there, the untied ones. Some of the men got talking about how innocent they were, and decided to change that. They managed to take some of them, goodness knows what those poor girls are going through at the moment.'**

** 'There was a little girl, Mary I think' Susanna stumbled over her words, 'she is only eleven years old, did they take her?'**

** 'No, thanks be to the Lord, they did not but they tried and she's hurt as are many others. The governor too.'**

** Susanna turned to Harry, 'I have to go' she told him.**

** He nodded his head, 'I will too' he said, 'we will drop Robert off at our next door neighbours, they will look after him.'**

*******

** They found the Governor's house in uproar, men surrounded it, not those who had attacked but many of the guards that usually were scattered through out the settlement. Some obviously still tried to make sure that the whole area was safe, but many had come to protect their master.**

** 'Who goes there?' one shouted when they walked out of the darkness holding a gun up threateningly.**

** 'I have been sent for' Susanna said, 'Mary the healer sent for me to help her to tend to the injured.'**

** 'And he?' the man nodded towards Harry.**

** 'I am here to make sure she is not harmed' he said, 'she is my wife.'**

** 'Fair enough' the guard let them through.**

** If outside seemed bad, inside was even worse. Screams of terror and pain could be heard running through the corridors of the big building. Girls were running here and there, hands to their mouths, eyes filled with shock and horror, they trembled when they saw Harry.**

** 'Leave us alone' one screamed, 'we don't want to go with you.'**

** Susanna immediately ran over to the girl, 'it is alright' she soothed, 'he is with me, here to protect me, he won't harm, in fact he will protect you all too.'**

** 'Do you promise?' the girl asked, her chin trembling with fear.**

** 'Yes I do' Susanna said in an adamant voice. 'Now where is Mary the healer?'**

** The girl pointed to the doorway of another room, 'she is in there, with Mary Wade.'**

*******

** Susanna entered the room to find a white face girl on a bed, her leg bent in a funny angle. She was crying and Mary, the healer was trying to get her to drink something.**

** Across the room by the window the Governor stood, his arm in a sling, and stared at them. When he saw Susanna he marched forward, 'are you she? The other healer?'**

** 'I wouldn't call myself a healer' she said self consciously.**

** 'But she is' Mary the healer shouted over, 'and a good one too.'**

** 'Excellent' he said, 'you look after the child over there, and Mary, the healer can come with me, there are soldiers that need to be seen to.'**

** 'I need to set the girl's leg first' Mary the healer commented.**

** 'Can she not do it?'**

** 'The job needs two of us, one at her hip and one manipulating the foot until the bone goes back into place.'**

** 'Well come on then, what are you waiting for?'**

** 'I need the child to drink this' Mary the healer held up a cup, 'it is a honey tea, infused with chopped up Marjarla tree bark. It will help her with the pain.'**

** 'Well give it to her then woman' he ordered.**

** 'the child won't drink it.'**

** 'Will she not' he stomped over to the bed, and peered down at the shaking child, 'you listen here, you will drink the tea, it will take the pain away, okay?'**

** The girl was shaking, even more than she had been before, but she nodded her head and took the tea from Mary the healer and drank in one go.**

** 'Good' the governor said gruffly, 'now hurry up setting that bone will you?'**

** Mary the healer sighed, 'please sir, give the tea some time to work.'**

** 'fine' he went over to the door, 'I will be in the barracks, one of my soldiers will bring you over when you are done, but hurry.'**

*******

** They set the bone together and used gluey sheets of material to immobilise it, and then Mary the healer hurried off to find the governor and help the men.**

** 'How are you feeling?' Susanna asked.**

** 'Mary hurt' the little girl said.**

** 'Oh she did not mean to, maybe the tea wasn't strong enough.'**

** The girl frowned, 'Mary thirsty.'**

** Susanna blinked, 'is she? How do you know that?'**

** 'Mary cry.'**

** Susanna felt a little scared of the girl now, 'how do you know she is crying?'**

** Tears were falling down the girl's cheeks, 'me Mary' she said in a squeaky voice, 'me Mary.'**

** Susanna bit her lip, 'of course you are' she went back over to the girl, and hugged, 'of course you are Mary, and you are thirsty, and your legs hurts doesn't it?'**

** Mary nodded her head, 'okay I will give you some more tea and then we will see how you are. Now dry those tears, everything will be just fine, you wait and see.'**

*******

** After that night things started to settle down again, the instigators of the violence especially those who had attacked the governor's home were punished, but in leg irons and made to work all day in the fields.**

** And little Mary became Susanna's shadow. Walking around, she seemed more like she was five than the eleven year old she was. The shock of what had happened had obviously affected her deeply. And so Susanna started to take care of her, in some ways it was like having her little sister back again, though she hoped the girl would never experience Botany Bay. Mary moved in, and slowly but surely started to gain in confidence. She had taken a shine to Robert who though he would pull her hair loved her back. **

** So Susanna's little family grew, now there were four of them, soon to be five. **

** And just over two weeks after that night, the supply ship came bringing relief to all.**

*******

** Susanna held her son's hand, and watched as her new daughter ran off ahead. It was a warm day in October, and after working hard all day, she had finally been allowed some time off.**

** 'Susanna' a voice called out behind her.**

** She turned and squinted her eyes against the bright light. 'Mary, Mary the healer, I haven't seen you for weeks, where have you been?'**

** The woman looked different, paler, and thinner. **

** 'I fear I haven't got long for this world' she said, 'I have a growth in my stomach.'**

** 'We should the surgeon.'**

** Mary, the healer shook her head, 'no there is no point. I have seen this illness before. It is like a thunderstorm breaking on a cloudless day. Nothing can stop it, I am going to die but before I do I want your help with something.'**

** 'I will help you anyway I can' Susanna exclaimed, 'you know I will.'**

** 'Yes my dear friend, I do know that. And that is why I have come to you. I would trust no one else.'**

** Susanna frowned, 'what is it you need?'**

** 'I hear you can read and write.' She stopped for a moment and grimaced.**

** 'You are in pain, here let me help you. I will take you to your home.'**

** 'yes, thank you, that would be appreciated. But first I need to ask you.......................'**

** 'Ask me what?'**

** 'You can read and write, I am a healer, I have taught you much, but not everything. I would like your help to write a book so that my knowledge will not die with me.'**

** 'A book of healing?' **

** 'Yes' Mary the healer gripped her hand, 'yes, that is what I want. I want to leave behind a book of healing that can be used by others, by you.'**

** 'I would be honoured to help you with that.'**

** 'Good.' She frowned again, 'now help me home please.'**

*******

** Susanna spent many hours with Mary the healer, first of all listening and writing down al the woman knew and all that she had found out about the plants of New Holland. And then as the book was finished she spent time nursing the dying woman.**

** 'I am going now my friend' Mary the healer said to her one bright morning. 'It is my time to die.'**

** Tears filled Susanna's eyes, Mary the healer had become a second mother to her, replacing the one who could no longer help her. And now she would lose her too. 'I love you' she told the woman.**

** 'And I love you too' Mary the healer said, 'you are like the daughter I never had.'**

** Susanna started to cry, and watched the woman's face as it fell slack. A beam of light burst through the window, as if it was taking her soul to heaven.**

*******

** 'Silent night' Mary Wade held Robert's hand during the carol service on Christmas Day of the year of our Lord Seventeen Ninety. **

** It was a hot day, sweltering but a joyous day as well. Only the week before the little Church they stood in had not existed.**

** Susanna had plans for that day, she had managed to help enough people who paid for her healing services, that she had been able to buy Christmas dinner from one of the hunters. It was the leg of a brush turkey that she had left cooking under a gentle fire. She knew that the Church service would be long over before it started to burn.**

** But then something started that was familiar to her. Pain, again.**

***** **

**This time a girl, one of the line**

**her story isn't for us,**

**and neither is the rest of Susanna's**

**who will raise a family and live**

**to an old age and meet her grand daughter**

**Annabella.**


	20. Annabella, 1824AD

Annabella, 1824 AD

Sunshine streaked down through hazy white clouds and glinted on the churning sea. Silver backed seagulls squawked as they flew over the water. Every so often one would fly down, flick its head under and then fly quickly back up to the sky, a struggling fish in its beak. And on the horizon, a black dot appeared. Slowly it became bigger until its shapelessness formed into a boat.

Watching all this was a young girl, standing on the beach, her bare toes curling into the hot sand. She wore a long, nearly white dress with a high neckline and ragged hem. A pair of boots lay on the sand nearby, one half filled with the grainy substance. Her blonde hair was tied up but the odd curl had escaped and flew around her face in the light wind. Her eyes were a mirror image of the sea, a stormy grey blue. They widened when she saw the boat.

She pulled up the skirt of her dress, showing her legs, and with it in a bunch in her hand ran along the beach.

'There's a ship coming,' she screamed, turning back to grab her boots, she stuffed her feet into them, sand and all, and started to run again. 'Mama, there's a ship.'

A red faced woman ran out of a little hut, her hands covered in flour. 'What's the matter Annabella,' she yelled, running to the girl. 'Are you hurt? Has someone hurt you?'

'No Mama, I'm fine. But there is a ship coming.'

The woman wiped her hands on her apron, and then looked towards the sea. 'It is a ship,' she laughed. 'It's sure to have the supplies we so desperately need.'

Together they ran down a mud trail, yelling to the people in the dilapidated huts that lined it. These were interspersed with trees; their fruit, a green plum, often filled the bellies of the poor and hungry. Van Diemen's only quay was basically a piece of wood built to reach out over the lapping sea. It was already filled by those with faster feet when they arrived there.

Annabella could remember the first time she'd stepped on it, four years before. She'd been four years old at the time and the nearly male population had scared her at first. But her mother and her father a blacksmith so they were much needed. And soon every man, woman and child in Hobart was her protector and they loved to see her sunny smile. So she was able to wander around the island under the watching eyes of nearly everyone.

As they reached the Quay, the people already there parted slightly to let them through but they were pushed out of the way by the soldiers who walked in front of a large man, wearing a navel uniform.

'It's Governor Arthur,' many of the crowd whispered.

He strode forward, right to the end of the Quay and waited for the ship that was coming closer with each minute. It was huge, its water stained sides pushing through the sea, making little white waves that poured behind them, and were then immediately eaten up within the wild waves. Leaning over the side were grey faced sailors, who happy on seeing land, waved madly. The hull banged against the Quay, sending a shiver down the wood that meant that many lost their footings.

But not Governor Arthur. He stood regally as if nothing was strong enough to topple him.

'Land Ahoy,' a man from the shop shouted. 'Governor Arthur, how nice to see you again.'

'Ah, Captain Bishop. I am glad to see the Asia has arrived safely. How many convict souls have you on board?' He clicked his fingers towards the soldiers to tell them to board and start taking the new workers off the boat. Once all the formalities had been seen too.

'I have brought you two hundred and fifty male convicts. Fodder for your works and plans.' He smiled.

'Excellent. Shall we retire to my house while the criminals are numbered?'

'I would like that very much,' the captain said. 'I will bring some of the first-rate wine I picked up when we stopped in Spain. It has a lively bouquet and is a wonderful vintage.'

Eight year old Annabella had only understood a little of their conversation. But while she watched them go, she knew one thing. Soon the convicts would be lead off the ship and given tasks. She grinned. The day was turning very exciting.

Lines of men stumbled in chains out down the plank out of the Asia and into the bright sunlight. The sailors had looked grey but these men, they were a shade of green and blinking madly like they'd not seen the sun for a long time. Which was the truth, they'd been in the Hold for much of the journey from England and they'd been sailing since September of the year before and now it was February. So for five months they'd spent most of their time in the dark, or near dark anyway. And now, with a much brighter and hotter sun to contend with, many were hunched low, stumbling, falling and crying as the chains and manacles bit into their ankles and wrists.

But not one man. He was short but his upright and haughty manner made him seem taller, his hair was brown and she saw as he looked around that his eyes were brown too. He had a dimple on his chin that in others would have seemed endearing, but it clashed with livid scars on his forehead and neck. He was wearing a pair of ragged britches and a grey shirt, its sleeves pulled up so far that a tattoo could be seen on his left arm.

Annabella stepped a bit closer to see what it was but her mother pulled her back. The man turned too looked at her with interest and flexed his arm to show two bare knuckles boxers having a fight. He grinned at her, his teeth blackened with rot.

Annabella clapped her hands to the mirth of the man. He winked at her.

Her mother dragged her away. Catching hold of her hand she led her back down the path they'd come and pushed her into their hut. 'You are a very naughty girl,' she hissed. 'Why did you draw that convict's attention? You know better than that. Just you wait until your father hears, you will be lucky not to have a sore bottom by the fall of night.'

Annabella sat on a wooden chair and stared up at her mother. 'I'm sorry Mama,' she cried. 'He just seemed so different from the other convicts.'

'Yes he did, he wasn't broken like the other ones. He obviously has no respect for authority and that makes him the most dangerous kind.'

She gasped. 'He wouldn't try to hurt me Mama would he?'

Her mother sighed. 'You have nothing to worry about; your father and I will protect you. But next time, don't look at a convict.'

'Okay Mama, can I go out now?'

'No, go to your bed until teatime.'

Annabella stared out of the small window in the loft that served as her bedroom. She usually loved being up there, at night she could see through a gap in the roof to where the stars twinkled in the sky. But it was still daylight, and she longed to play in the waves of the sea, to build sandcastles and watch crabs scuttling along the beach instead of moping around in the stuffy room. She sighed, and flopped down on her mouldy straw bed, sneezing when she dislodge some dust under it.

'Annabella,' her mother called up to her. 'You can come down now, tea is ready.'

Standing up, she walked to the edge of the loft, and turning around eased herself down the ladder, climbing down rung after rung.

'Your father will be here soon.' Her mother turned to look at her, using a cloth to knock off the dust on Annabella's dress. 'What have you been doing? Crawling under your bed?'

Annabella shook her head and then when her mother's back was turned, grinned. That was exactly what she'd been doing.

'Sit down,' her mother urged, spooning a fried egg onto a plate. She passed it to Annabella and then cut a slice of freshly baked but rather gritty bread. She gave her a chipped cup filled with watery milk. 'Hurry up and eat because you won't feel like eating when your father gets back. Not when I tell him how you were making eyes at a convict.

'Oh Mama, don't tell him, please.'

Her mother sighed. 'We will see.'

As it was, her mother never got time to tell what Annabella had done. He had his own tale to tell of one of the new convicts.

He's called James Porter, supposedly only nineteen but to me looked older. He told the authorities that he was a blacksmith and so they asked me to give him a job.' He sat down heavily on a wooden chair and started to cut a slice of bread with his knife.

Her mother slapped his hand. 'You know I hate it when you use that disgusting thing on food. Goodness knows where it's been.' She started to cut into the bread herself, giving him a large slice.

Gratefully he bit into it, and munched for a while. His jaw having to chew hard. Every so often there was a clink when his teeth hit a bit of grit. 'I gave him a job, you know me. Always willing to help someone in need but he was useless, had no idea. I had to tell the authorities, had no choice, couldn't let him stay in the smith. He had a funny look about him anyway, looked the sort to take what wasn't his, or start fights. He even had a tattoo on his arm of two bare-knuckles fighters. Seemed really proud of it.'

Annabella gasped, but quickly changed the sound into a choke. She'd been raising her cup to her lips anyway, so did it faster. Her father on seeing her nose in the cup, started to slap her on the back. 'You be more careful my girl.'

She nodded her head, hiding her emotions within the contours of the cup. 'James Porter,' she whispered silently to herself, thinking that one day she'd marry him.

Over the next few years they often heard about James Porter, how he'd been caught escaping, or had done something wrong. She knew he'd been sent to Macquarie Harbour at one time, rumoured to be the worse place on Earth, similar to hell. But she didn't really know too much about it and so her life settled back into her normal routines, though she never forgot the man with the bare-knuckles fighters on his left arm or his wink.

When she turned twelve her mother decided it was time to up her education and teach her healing. Her mother had had a son two years earlier so while her father planned to teach him his trade, her mother decided to teach her.

So one sunny but not too hot day in October, they left their hut carrying a basket and made for the nearby bush, her mother warning her not to wander off. They both carried wicker baskets and wore bonnets on their heads. Within seconds of walking under the trees, they could hear the loud burping call of the Yellow Wattlebird and Annabelle was staring up into the tree branches hoping to catch sight of the large bird.

'Annabella,' her mother frowned. 'We are not here to gaze at the wildlife. Now come on and I will show you the Red Ash.' She stopped by a large tree, its bark red. 'If you crush the leaves and add water, it makes a very good wash to cure a headache.'

Annabella nodded her head, fingering one of the leaves and pointed to a bush nearby, purple flowers peeking through its leaves. 'What's that?'

Her mother smiled. 'That is Billy Goat weed, and it is really good for wounds.' She pulled some up. 'You just have to crush it.'

'What about for sore eyes?'

Her mother frowned now and stepped closer, looking at Annabella's eyes. 'Are they sore?'

'No, my eyes are fine but Johnny Wilson was moaning about his the other day. How would I help him?'

'You would need to make an infusion of the inner bark of the green plum tree and bathe the eyes with it.' She put her arms around her daughter. 'I'm proud that you are so concerned for your friends.'

Annabella shrugged her shoulders.

This was how the morning went. Going from one plant to another, a tree to a bush. They moved all around the immediate bush to the town of Hobart and then Annabella, not quite quick enough in following her mother, found herself on her own.

'Mama?' She called, turning around in a circle, looking for a flash of white fabric that would tell her where the woman was.

There was no answer, just the burping sound of the bird she'd seen earlier.

'Mama.' She screamed. 'Mama!'

Still no answer. Starting to cry, she stumbled to where she'd last seen her mother but she wasn't there.

The burping sound was louder now, and she stared up into the foliage of the trees but couldn't see any bird.

'Where are you?'

She heard water nearby, and then another burp. Running towards the sound, she ran around a tree and found a man.

He grinned at her, the scars on his face and neck not moving in time. 'Hello, and who are you?'

'I, um, I'm...' She started to back away.

'Don't go. I could do with a little bit of company.' He stepped towards her and frowned. 'I've seen you somewhere before haven't I? But some time ago, you were littler.' He was closer now, and she could see the tattoo on his left arm.

She gasped. 'Are you... James?'

'I am.' He was very close now. 'And I think you are that sweet little girl I saw when I arrived in the accursed place. My you have grown.'

She turned, stumbling over a tree root, she started to run. 'Mama.' She screamed this at the top of her voice. Shrieked it in terror.

The man didn't move, he just watched her with an amused look on his face. 'I'll come and see you,' he shouted out to her. 'But I think I will wait until you are a bit older.'

Annabella stumbled out of the trees into the settlement of Hobart. She was near to the smithy where her father worked, so decided to go there for help.

'Father,' she screamed. 'There's a man in the bush and Mama is in there somewhere too.'

The men were assembled. Thankfully Annabella's mother had appeared out of the bush not long after she had, but there was still a strange man out there.

They entered the bush with sticks in their hands with which they beat the bushes and trees. But Annabella didn't get to watch, she didn't know when the man had been caught, for her mother took her home where she'd be safe.

And Annabella no longer wanted to marry James Porter.

Annabella lay on the sand, enjoying the feel of the sunshine warming her. She and her friends had escaped from their parents for the day and had wandered down the coast so they wouldn't be able to find them. She hoped. They had spent the whole day telling each other stories, of treasure islands, ghosts and what life was like on other worlds, like America. She had brought a piece of bread with her wrapped up in a muslin cloth and a small amount of honey that she had used to spread on the bread but also to sweeten some water she'd got from nearby river.

And now lying in the sand, half buried in it by her mischievous friends, she enjoyed the gentle lap of the sea and the caw of the seabirds that nested in the rocks nearby. One bird especially seemed loud, very loud; it was making a right racket. A shadow fell over her and she peered out of one eye to where her friend was standing. Only thing was it wasn't her friend, and the noise hadn't been a bird. It was her mother.

'I've been looking for you for ages, young lady,' her mother had her hands on her hips. 'And here I find you, messing around with your friends when you could be doing something useful.'

Annabella sighed.

'I thought you learnt your lesson years ago when you came upon that awful man in the bush but no I found you, only fifteen years old, here, where anyone could see you and no one to help.'

Annabella pushed back the sand, and shook it out her skirt. As she did this, she stood up, now taller than her mother. 'But Mama...'

'Look I wanted to tell you at home, where you were safe but that man has escaped again. You said he'd said he'd be back for you. Well there is a chance that he is on his way.'

'Mama!'

'So come on,' she grabbed her hand. 'The Governor has said that he will send a couple of solders to guard our house but they are no use to us if we aren't there.' She started to pull her along.

A young man ran up to them. 'What's going on Bella?' he asked.

'She hasn't got time to talk now young man,' her mother said in a hurried voice.

'James Porter has escaped again,' Annabella puffed. 'I've told you about him before. The man who was in the bush and said he'd come for me when I was older.'

He took her other arm. 'I'm coming with you too,' he said. 'I won't let anyone near you.'

Her mother stopped for a moment and stared at him. Annabella could almost hear her brain working. 'Come on Mama,' she urged all the while thinking that though she liked the lad, she didn't fancy him. Tom was more like a brother to her.

There were two soldiers camped outside their hut, Annabella had wanted to take them some tea but her mother wouldn't let her. She wouldn't even allow her to look out of the window in case the man manage to get passed the guards and her looking out gave him a sign as to where she was. She had been set the job of shelling peas, a long laborious job that she usually liked doing out in the sunshine but in the stuffy hut was unbearable.

'How long do I have to stay here?' she moaned.

Her mother put down a book she was writing in, and looked at her. 'Until they have found that man.' She picked up her writing implement again and started writing again.

Annabella drew her breath into her mouth and blew it through her teeth in a long drawn out sigh. 'I'm so bored.' She longed to be outside, enjoying the sunshine, paddling in the edge of the sea and talking to her friends.

Her mother stopped writing. She closed the heavy book that she wrote all her remedies and cures in and smiled at her daughter.

'Uh oh,' Annabella thought.

'We could talk about that lovely young man who made sure we got back here safely.' She had a twinkle in her eye. 'What's his name?'

'You mean Tom?'

'Tom. Yes, I think I have heard of him. A very upright young man they say. He would make a good husband I'm sure.'

Annabella sighed. 'I don't want to marry.'

Her mother frowned. 'Of course you do. Every young girl wants to get married. And you are fifteen now. I was your age when I married your father.' Her eyes had a dreamy look to them.

'Just because you married young doesn't mean I should.'

'Don't be silly Annabella. Yes I think I will talk to your father. I'm sure that young Tom would be more than willing to marry you. I think he is rather fond of you.'

'But I don't' want to marry him. He's like a brother to me.'

'That will change believe me, yes I will talk to your father.'

Annabella pushed out her chin in irritation but she knew better that to argue with her mother. She knew that her father would see things her way.'

'I'm going to bed,' she told her mother, as she stomped over to the ladder. Pulling up her skirt she climbed it, and flung herself onto her straw mattress, beating her hands against her pillow.

'They've caught him,' her father said as soon as he came through the door. 'He was nowhere near here, hiding in the bush near Macquarie harbour.'

'Oh that's good,' her mother visibly calmed down, her shoulders losing their tenseness.

'They say he was in a right state when they found him. Couldn't hardly walk, he was so cold.'

Her mother sat down. 'And are they going to keep a closer eye on him?'

Her father nodded his head. 'Let's just say I doubt he will be able to escape again.'

'Good,' her mother responded and then turned to Annabella. 'I met a very interesting young man today and I think he's interested in our Annabella. He goes by the name of Tom.'

'Tom?'

'Whets his last name Annabella?' her mother demanded.

'Wright, Tom Wright,' Annabella said. 'But...'

'Oh yes, I know young Tom,' her father said. 'I think he would make an excellent husband for our girl.'

'What? You can't agree with her. How could you agree with her?' Annabella wept with rage.

'You are old enough to get married now but if you don't want to...'

'I don't want to,' Annabella hurriedly said.

'Well...'

'She has to marry someone and Tom is an excellent choice. She could do much worse that him.'

'I agree,' hr father said.

'But father...'

'But if she doesn't want to get married...'

'Stop mollycoddling the girl, she should get married and she is going to. That is the end of it.'

'But I don't want to.'

'I don't care,' her mother said.

'But...'

'She doesn't have to get married straight away does she?' her father asked. 'Maybe in a few years from now. Say when she's eighteen.'

'That's rather old for a girl getting married,' her mother tried to disagree.

'Please Mama, I don't want to get married. Not until I'm eighteen.'

'Fine,' her mother replied begrudgingly.

'Go home,' Tom ordered as she walked on the beach. 'I won't have my bride gallivanting all over Hobart.'

'I'm not your bride yet,' Annabella silently seethed.

'When we're married tomorrow, I will want you at home. I intend to have a good number of children...'

She stared at the young man she used to like. Over the last few years he had grown hard, not in body, which was growing fatter by the day, but by spirit. She didn't like him anymore. She couldn't believe that she used to be is friend. Or that she'd agreed to marry him. His black hair was already starting to recede, his skin was covered in a combination of acne and sunburn, spots oozing puss down his cheek. Worse of all he now liked to boss her around, not allowing her to make her own decisions, treating her like she was his property.

He'd been careful to always act respectfully towards her when she was with her parents, but afterwards he would make fun of them, and her.

'Your parents begged me to take you off their hands,' he had crowed. 'And it's not surprising, they have let you have your way too much.'

But now, on the eve of her wedding day, she knew she couldn't take it anymore.

And it got worse when she got home.

'Annabella, I've finally finished your wedding dress. Oh you are going to look so pretty tomorrow,' her mother had said as soon as she entered the hut.

'That Tom is one lucky lad,' her father had smiled when she'd tried it on.

The dress was beautiful, and she didn't know how her parents had afforded such finery. It was white, with a crochet collar and sleeves. Little polished stones had been sewn onto it, not jewels but they looked far prettier to Annabella.

Annabella stared at the dress hung up against the wall, and sighed. She couldn't marry him. That much she knew but she also was aware of how disappointed her parents would be in her. But she knew she had to live her own life, not what someone else wanted.

She had a plan; she'd been secretly working on it for months, hiding away what she would need. First of all, a man's outfit, and then food and other necessities. She knew where a boat was, had found it on the beach, battered. She'd mended it and hid it under foliage. Now was the time she would make her bid for freedom.

Changing into boy's clothes in the bushes, Annabella thought about whether she should cut her long blonde hair or just stuff it under a cap. She wasn't sure which to do, she knew that to anyone she met her hair could give her away but she loved it. In the end, staring at the knife in her hand, she started to cut just below the jaw line. She hacked through it, weeping as the silken curls fell to the ground. This done she stuffed what was left under the cap, and kicked some soil over the hair she'd cut off. Then running to the boat she'd hidden, she started to drag it down the beach, trying her best to wipe out the tracks with her feet. Finally she stepped into it and pushed herself into the lapping water.

Picking up the oar, she started to row. The moon hung full in the dark sky, a big round circle of light to cast its light down on her. It was a cloudless night; she could've easily laid down in the boat counting the twinkling stars. It was a still night, the water calm, the only violence running through it her oar as she escaped from an unwanted marriage.

She didn't know where she was going, she'd tried to look at a map her father had, but it had meant little to her. Maybe she was trying to head for New Zealand to the East, or up to Australia, to where her grandmother lived. Maybe just maybe she thought that she would find England at the end of her journey, having revelled in the tales of that place she had grown up with. Wherever she was going she was soon worn out, and lay in the boat for a while, staring up at the stars, wondering what they were. Slowly her eyes started to drift close, she tried to fight it but it was the middle of the night, a time she was used to sleeping through. She couldn't resist the urge. Lulled by the gentle rocking of the boat and the lullaby of the water, she fell asleep.

_BANG._

She was awakened as the boat hit something. Blinking away the sleep in her eyes, she blearily looked for the land she was certain she'd come into contact with. All she saw was the side of a ship and ten men looking down at her.

'Ah, it's a wee lad,' one of them chortled.

'In his little boat,' another added with a roar of laughter.

'Have you been fishing lad?' the man stared over the side of the ship. 'Don't see any fish or anything.'

'Hey, if you've got fish, you have to pay the fish tax.'

'What?' Annabella frowned.

'Ha! Doesn't know what the fish tax is.'

'Leave the lad alone,' one of them said with a voice of authority. 'Can't you see he's not been fishing? I reckon he's escaping from Van Diemen's Land. Are you lad?'

'No,' she responded, her voice going an octave higher.

'His voice hasn't broken yet. He's just a little lad,' the man said, staring at the others with a look of power. 'I think we've just found our ship's boy. A fleeing convict just like us.'

'Aye, Mr Barker, I think you could be right.'

'I don't' want to be your ship boy,' she stammered, thinking that one of them seemed familiar.

'Not up to you though is it?' Mr Barker guffawed, nodding towards the men on either side of him.

They started jumping, splashing into the water all around her. Men climbing into her boat, dragging her towards them. She shrieked but they just laughed, called her a girl and tied a rope around her. Then she was dragged up into the ship, her boat and all it contained. All she'd hid, gone, her plans, foiled. She felt like weeping but doing that would not be a good idea, not surrounded by men like she was. If they realised she was female, well she shuddered to think what they'd do.

'So what's your name then lad?' Mr Barker asked when she was dumped at his feet.

'I, um,' she had to think fast. She couldn't give her real name. But her mind was blank; nothing would come out of it. It was as cold as the deep ocean that at that moment she would have preferred.

'Yes what's your name?' he turned to his fellow ship mates and convicts. 'I think the lad is a bit stupid.'

'My name,' she was still thinking. 'My name is Ben.'

'Ah Ben is it? Well I think that's a better name that lad. Now go and get me some food. Some of your runaway supplies would be good.'

Annabella stared at the man and didn't immediately obey him.

'Ben, when I tell you to do something then I expect you to do it.' He smirked. 'Unless you fancy being shark bait...'

'What? No,' she mumbled as she looked around.

'I think we were right about you being a bit stupid after all.' He sighed. 'Mr Porter, will you show our ship lad to the galley?'

'Porter?' she trembled as she saw a man, with a tattoo of bare-knuckled boxers on his left arm, heading towards her.

He pushed her down a hatch. 'Do you know how to cook?' he asked as they climbed down the rungs of a ladder into the Hull of the ship.

'My mother taught me,' she responded.

'Oh a Mama's boy,' he snorted. 'I haven't seen me old Mam for more years that I want to think of. Not that I was ever her boy. She couldn't wait to see the back of me, well if she could see at all when she was drinking gin every day.'

'That's terrible.' She followed him down a damp corridor.

'That's life Ben, and the sooner you get used to it the better.' He opened a door and shoved her in. 'Now get cooking, we men will need some hearty food in our stomachs if we are going to reach the shores of Chile.'

Annabella inched her way out of the bunk she'd been given, more of a box really, and crept away from the snoring men. There was a slop bucket in the corner of the room but she couldn't use that, not in so open a place. Grimacing, she picked it up by the handle, and carefully carried it towards the corridor.

Nearby a man mumbled, half awake at her moment. 'Where are you going lad?'

'I'm just going to empty this,' she whispered back. 'If I go in it then it will spill over the sides.'

'Won't be the first time,' he responded with a small snort and turned over, going back to sleep.

She tiptoed into the corridor, shutting the door gently and then hurried up the ladder, as much as someone can with a brimming slop bucket filled with stuff she didn't want to think about, much less smell.

Climbing onto the deck, she walked over to the side of the ship, and tipped the contents into the restless sea. Then wiping her hands against her trousers, she looked for somewhere private.

Thankfully there was only one man on deck, and he was at the other side, with the wheel. So she walked to the aft of the boat, and hiding behind the sail perched over the bucket and emptied her bladder.

She woke to the violent motion of the sea tossing the ship around. As she lay in her bunk she could hear the whistle of the wind as it blew over them and the shout of the men as they ran out to bring the sails down.

One of them kicked her bunk. 'Get up,' he growled. 'You're light enough to be able to go to the top of the mast.'

She sat up, feeling her stomach moving more than she did. 'I feel sick,' she said.

'You'll feel more than sick if we don't get those sails down. You'll feel dead. Come on, get up.' He kicked her bed again.

She kicked off her thin blanket and sat up, putting feet into her shoes; she pulled the back up and rushed after the other men.

It was worse on deck. The sea was almost level with it and waves were constantly rolling over it. Sometimes they would get caught and pour into the ship making it go a little lower in the water.

'Get up the mast,' Mr Barker shouted above the wind. He pointed to where the mast was waving backwards and forwards. Men were already on it, pulling down the sails, but there was still more up there that had to be brought down.

She took a deep breath and blew it out through her teeth, then she put one foot onto the first rung of the ladder that was part of the mast, and started to climb.

'Get to the top sail,' she heard shouted up at her. 'None of the men are light enough to reach it.'

She didn't have time to moan, or sigh or anything else she might have liked to do. Hand over hand, she pulled herself up, foot after foot, never allowing herself to feel scared, not looking down.

She reached the top, and started to take down the sail, unhooking it so the others could pull it down. But one of the hooks was difficult to reach, it would have been hard on the pleasantness of days, but on the top of a pole, waving around in the wind as if she was an upside down pendulum of a clock, it was near enough impossible. Still she tried, keeping her legs wrapped around the mast, and one hand on, she learnt over to reach. She nearly slipped down the pole once; splinters entered her legs as it was. She almost fell, but managed to steady herself before it was too late. And then she did it. She managed to unhook it.

Slowly she came down. She wanted to get down quickly but Mr Barker ordered her to go slow in case the sail caught on anything.

But it didn't and by the time she reached the deck again, exhausted, it was put away and she was alone on the deck, abandoned to the rolling sea.

'Ben,' a voice shouted up to her from the Hull. 'Get down here and help. The ship is filling with water; we need to pump it out.

'Filling with water,' she squeaked, and then in a gruffer voice shouted back. 'Okay.'

She hurried down the steps, passed the upper Hull where the living quarters were, to right next to the kitchen where she climbed into an open hatch. Rung after rung, down, and then her feet hit the floor with a splash.

'Come on boy,' Mr Barker shouted, his face red with exhaustion, his clothes drenched.

She waded through the water that came up to her thighs. It was cold, freezing and a scum from the ship floated in it. Avoiding a sodden bag of flour she reached to where the other men were trying to pump the water out.

'It's no use,' one of them shouted. 'There must be something stuck in the pump.'

'Can't you get it out?' Mr Barker yelled.

'If I had time then probably but we haven't got time have we? We'll sink if we don't get that water out.'

'Think, think,' Mr Barker tapped his forehead, and then slapped it. 'What about the other pump, the starboard one. Could it be rigged up to replace this one?'

'Yes,' was all the man said, as he ran off to get it.

'Go with him,' Mr Barker ordered.

Annabella scurried up the ladder to the upper Hull, and then to the deck. By the time she got there, the pump was already being used. Two men, naked to the waist, were pushing an iron handle up and down.

'You,' one of the men shouted. 'Go back down and see if the water is going down.'

Back again, down into the dark Hull, into the scummy lapping water, filled with bottles, rubbish and ruined food. She sat on a nearby barrel, heavy with whatever it contained, it hadn't moved and was sturdy enough for her weight. And it meant she could keep her feet out of the water that was slowly going down.

Annabella sat in the crow's nest staring out at the calm sea. Her only company, sea birds. It had been many weeks since she'd been picked up by the convicts and she was farer away from all that she knew than she had ever been. But up there she didn't mind. She enjoyed the solitude, and the chance to be who she really was. When she was up there she would take off her cap and allow the sun to warm her shorn hair, which was once again growing. Always one to have hair that grew fast, it was at least three inches longer than it had been. She knew that soon she would have to cut it again, throw the hair into the sea, but she kept putting it off.

For now it was enough to be up there. No one else climbed as high as where she was. It had soon been decided that as the smallest and youngest, she would be the best choice to climb all the way up. She could be their lookout. She was all alone. Glad to be spared the language of the men, the roughness and their horrible ways, she would have slept up there, if it wasn't for being frightened that she would fall.

She often talked to the birds, glad not to have to use the gruff voice she'd been using around the convicts. But even though she thought that the wind would whip away her voice before it could reach those down below, she whispered.

'Hello little birdie,' she said in a sing song voice. 'My name's Annabella, I am very pleased to meet you.'

Of course the bird didn't talk back; it just looked at her quizzically and then flew off. Down to the water to catch a plump fish and hope that it wasn't caught by an even plumper one.

Waves once again rolled over the deck. Annabella was staring at them when a particularly large wave reared up and fell over her, drenching her. She squealed in shock.

'You sound like a little girl,' a voice said.

She turned around, to see James Porter, the convict who had winked at her, he who she thought she would marry one day, until he scared her. She was glad he couldn't see through her disguise.

'Yes, you sound like a girl,' he repeated, he eyes boring into hers, and then looking her up and down. 'And I see that from the way your wet shirt is clinging to you, that description would be right.'

She nervously pulled on her shirt where the wet material was clinging to her breasts making them quite evident.

He stepped forward, reached out and tore her cap off. 'I thought I'd seen you before, you're that little girl.' He eyed her. 'But you are not a little girl anymore.'

She tried to back away, but he grabbed wrist.

'I don't think so.' He tapped her forehead with his hand. 'Now I really should tell the other men. Oh imagine what they would do having such a pretty young girl on the boat, totally alone.'

She blinked, feeling the blood rushing from her face.

'Of course if you are nice to me then I will be nice to you and not tell.' He pulled her close, holding her against his chest. 'Are you going to be nice to me?' he whispered, his breath hot against her cheek.

'No.' she tried to wriggle away.

He slid his arm around her waist, and used his free hand to push the back of her head forwards. He kissed her.

She started to splutter, and then bit down on his lip. Feeling the tangy taste of blood in her mouth, she knew she had broken skin.

'Cow,' he let her go a bit and slapped her across the face. She pushed herself free and started to run.

He grabbed the back of her shirt, and yanked it. There was a ripping sound as it tore.

'Where are you going to go?' he snorted, as he watched her gripping the ripped material to her chest. 'There is nowhere to go; you will have to do what I want.'

'I won't,' she screamed over the now roaring wind. The sea was getting more restless with every moment but she didn't care, all she cared about was getting away from the man. She ran to the stern.

He stalked after her.

A waved hit right over her again, blocking her from his sight. When it was gone, so was she. The wave had taken her.

Black. All around her. Nothing. She's floating. Sinking? Falling? She doesn't know. She can't see anything or there is nothing to see. She tries to lift her hand up to her face, to her eyes, but she can't. She can't feel her hands or her face. She'd turn around, to stare in the blackness if she could. But she can't. She is dark, filled with darkness, a head full of nothing, no memories, no thoughts, no imagination. There is only the darkness, never-ending darkness and she is nothing. Not even quite there.

A pinprick of light appears in the distance, it steadily moved towards her, bigger and bigger. She realises that it is she that is moving. Moving towards the light that even now is filling her body with its glow, releasing her eyes, releasing her from the darkness.

She sees a man, a shining man, light flickers off his brown hair and beard. He is wearing a tunic that is whiter than the purest snow; it blinds her for a moment. He puts out his arms towards her and she sees his wrists were scared. There were also healed thorn marks on his forehead.

'Annabella,' he said taking her tremble. 'It is not your time yet.'

Everything swirled around her, dark and light in ever turning circles. She could feel herself moving, pulled back.

The body was flung by the waves. It was lying on a bit of sea wreckage, an empty barrel. One hand flung over it, white with holding on. There was a bruise on its cheek, a cut on its forehead, not bleeding anymore. The body was pale, as if it was dead but then its eyes flickered.

Annabella peered through salt crusted eyes at the blurry image of an ever lapping sea. She winced as the bright light hurt her head which was combined with an ache already there. She put her hand to her head, feeling the cut. She wriggled her jaw, pain again.

'Where am I?' she tried to say but could only manage a croak.

A bird landed on the barrel. It stared at her with its beady eyes, and then flew off again.

She wished she could fly. She would be safe, not drifting alone in the water.

She splashed as she realised where she was. With panic she tried to pull herself up onto the barrel, looking into the half light of dawn. Nothing around her but sea.

'I'm going to die,' she started to sob, the tears making her eyes hurt even more than they already did.

The bird came back. It was a large bird, white feathered. She wracked her brain for its name but could only remember the word seagull.

She stared at it and blinked. 'A seagull? Does that mean I am near land?'

She twisted around, to see a green island, the waves pushing her towards it.

She swam the last of the way to the beach, staggering out and laying on the sand. She lay there some time, spending most of her time in that dark place. But when the sun was at its hottest she woke to when her skin started to burn.

She was thirsty. Water in front of her but she knew she couldn't drink it. She turned to look inland to where a mountain rose in the middle of what she assumed was an island. There was smoke coming off the top of it. She stumbled a few steps towards some trees, her eye sight misting in and out. She collapsed in a heap underneath the fronds of one of them.

She woke again when something hit her on the head. Something else banged on the ground next to her. Above her head she could hear chattering and when she looked up she saw a monkey running up and down a branch. Every so often it would lob a coconut down at her. One hit a nearby rock, breaking open. She stumbled to her feet, and ran over, grabbing it up and drinking the milk that hadn't drained away. Then she picked up another coconut and tried to smash it down on the rock. It took a few times but she eventually managed to knock out a small hole which allowed her to get to the liquid. She gulped it down, coconut milk spilling over her chin. Then she tried to scratch some of the flesh out of the coconut that the monkey had broken, she soon found it was impossible.

'If I could find a sharp shell I would be able to get some out,' she decided and started back to the sea edge.

Stomach filled with the milk and flesh of the coconut and once she had emptied her bladder, she started to realise what a state she was in. The last remnants of the shirt she'd been wearing had been ripped away by the sea, leaving her naked from the waist up. Her trousers hadn't fared much better, they were now filled with numerous holes and were barely holding together. She had bare feet.

Holding her hands against her chest with embarrassment, in case anyone should turn up, she looked around but saw that nothing suitable had been washed up that she could wear.

She sat on the sand. She didn't know where she was, and she was nearly naked. She was still pretty hungry and as far as she knew the only food had to be smashed open. She began to cry.

The sun poured down on her head, reddening her nose so much that she walked back to where the leafy trees had offered her protection. And that was when she had an idea.

She sharpened the shell she'd used to cut out the coconut on a rock. Then she looked up at a nearby tree, its branches low. She'd always wanted to climb the trees when she was little but being a girl with cumbersome skirts, she hadn't been able to. But now in a pair of breeches, it was different. Putting the shell between her teeth, she tried to pull herself up the trunk. Skinning her knees in the process, she managed to reach the low frond, using it to get to the next higher. And again. She tried not to think of the height, she'd been far higher in the crow's nest on the ship after all. She inched upwards and then started to cut through one of the fronds. Hacking through it until it fell to the ground. She did this a few times, until the tree was bare and the ground had a green leafy carpet. Then she got down.

She lifted up her handiwork to see. She'd shredded the frond's leaves and then weaved them together. What she'd created couldn't be considered a true item of clothing, but wrapped around her at least it would cover her nakedness.

The leaves were cool against her skin; she wrapped them around herself, trying it to her with a long plait of leaves. She pulled back her hair and tied another into it.

Covered again, she had to start thinking about a shelter, food, water and how she would survive. Though she was frightened, she decided that she needed to explore.

But she didn't want to walk into the trees, having too many memories of when she was young being told to never go in the bush, so she started to walk around the coast. She didn't have far to go before she saw smoke. She started to run.

The people sitting around the fire on the beach, cooking fish ran when they saw her. It wasn't surprising. Her hair was tangled and wild, she had bruises, cuts and muck on her face and body and was wearing leaves and a pair of ragged britches. She tried to run after them first of all, but they disappeared into the trees, causing her to sit down on the sand and cry, again.

A little pair of brown feet appeared next to her as she tried to rub her face of the tears. She looked up to see a little girl looking down at her.

'Oh you came back,' she sobbed. 'Where are your friends?' She said this more for her own benefit that for the girl's as she wouldn't know English.

'They're scared of you,' the little girl said, crouching down on her haunches beside Annabella. 'They think you are a demon.'

'A demon?' she laughed and then stared at the little girl. 'You speak English?'

The girl shrugged. 'I speak the languages my parents taught me, English and Tahitian.'

'But how is that possible? You are so far away from any of the English colonies.'

The girl smiled. 'I don't know,' she said simply. Then she reached out and touched Annabella's hair. 'You're hair is light sunlight, spun rays of the sun.'

'What? Oh it's just blonde. And rather dirty,' she added. 'What's your name?'

'I am called Mary.'

'Mary? But that's an English name and you speak English...'

'We are English,' a boy shouted from behind a tree. Becoming braver, he stepped out towards her. 'We are the descendants of English sailors and Tahitians.'

'Hush Simon,' an older girl said, standing up from where she'd been crouching behind a bush. 'Don't tell the demon anything.'

Annabella frowned. 'I'm not a demon. I'm just a girl.'

'Girls don't wear leaves,' the girl said.

'She looked like a girl Martha.'

'But she might not be.'

'I'm a girl,' Annabella stated. 'Just a girl. I was swept off the ship I was on by a wave and washed up on this beach further around the coast. My clothes were in tatters, so I weaved some leaves together.'

Martha stepped closer. 'You've been in the sea? You were lucky not to be eaten by sharks.' Another step closer. 'And you're hurt too.'

Annabella touched her forehead. 'I think I must have banged it on the ship.' She grimaced and swayed a little as the blackness threatened to come back.

'Sit down,' Martha had reached her by then, and taking hold of her hand led her to the fire, and sat her on a rock. 'Arthur, get her some fish to eat,' she ordered an older boy.

He ran to the fire, cut some of the fish with a knife and put it on a large shell. He handed it to her.

'Thank you,' she said, picking up a bit of fish and putting it in her mouth. It was hot.

'Eat slowly,' Martha advised.

Annabella nodded her head, and savoured each mouthful. As she did a girl came running along the sand. 'I've done my chores,' she laughed.

'I am glad Maria,' Martha said. 'Sit down; we have a visitor who I believe can tell us a story or two.'

Maria stared at Annabella who stared back at everyone else.

'You want me to tell you a story?'

Martha nodded.

'I don't know where to start.'

Martha sat next to her, patting her on the shoulder. 'Start with telling us your name.'

'My name is Annabella.' And she told them of her life.

'So how did a group of half English people come to live on this remote island?' Annabella asked when she had told them of her life.

'Ah,' Martha grinned. 'It's a long story and best told by another. We will take you to the story teller in our village.'

'She can't come to our village looking like that,' Arthur pointed out.

'You are quite right,' Martha said something in a foreign language that Annabella took to be Tahitian.

The other children nodded their heads and ran off. One was soon back with a metal bowl filled with water.

Martha put it over the fire, and fiddled in a little bag she had attached to her side, and dropped something into the water. 'Just some herbs,' she smiled. 'So I can clean up your wounds.'

'Are you a healer?'

Martha nodded her head. 'My mother has been teaching me since I was little. But I am an age now where I can work on my own.'

'How old are you?' Annabella shyly looked at the girl trying to work out her age.

'I am seventeen years old. Nearly eighteen.' A wistful look came over her face. 'I will be able to get married then, Arthur and I...'

'What? The tall boy?'

She giggled. 'He's eighteen, a man.'

'Oh he's the same age as me then. I'm eighteen.'

'You are? Well underneath your leaves and dirt, it's hard to tell.' Martha looked at the bowl. It was bubbling. She used a couple of sticks to take it off the heat and put it down to cool and stew.

'So you are getting married?'

Martha nodded her head.

'I should be married by now,' Annabella shuddered. 'But instead I am here talking to you.'

'But you will get married one day?'

She shrugged. 'If I find a man I can love, then yes, but realistically who knows?'

'Maybe you will fall in love with one of our men and stay here forever.'

Annabella grinning. 'Maybe.'

The little girl Mary came back carrying a piece of colourful cloth similar to what the other girls were wearing and some of white cloths too. Maria was right behind her carrying a bowl filled with a sweet scented liquid. She also had a bone toothed comb.

'Good, thank you,' Martha smiled as they ran back to the village. She put the tip of a little finger into the hot water and smiled. Then she started to rip the white cloth up, and dipped it in the water. She then started to see to Annabella's cuts and bruises. 'Come on,' she put her hand out to Annabella. 'You need a bath,' she insisted.

Annabella let herself be led through the trees, to a small lake. 'You want me to bathe?'

Martha nodded.

'But the others might come back and see me. The boys.'

'Everyone else has gone home; there is only the two of us. Now get in the water and I will help you wash your hair.' She picked up the bowl of scented liquid.

'Is that soap?'

'It's Saponaria, a flower that grows on this island. Mixed with water it foams. In this bowl it is mixed with lavender and berry juices as well. That's why it smells so sweet.'

'Sounds really nice,' Annabella sniffed it and smiled. Then she started to walk into the water. She turned around. 'There are no crocodiles in here are there?'

'Just fish,' Martha smiled, splashing into the water behind her.

Annabella waded to the middle of the lake, and dunked under the water. She opened her eyes underneath, watching the little bubbles escaping from her mouth rise to the surface. She followed them, spluttering as she reached the surface.

Martha took a handful of gloop out of the bowl and rubbed it into her hair, letting the bowl, wooden, float on the gentle water. She rubbed it in, from root to ends.

Annabella enjoyed the sensation of fingers massaging her scalp. She'd not been able to wash her hair since she's ran away and cut loads of it off. It had started to itch her the last few days on the ship, a combination of prickly hair and whatever ran through the convicts' hair, running through hers she feared. Of course it could have just been sweat, salt and grit.

'Duck under again,' Martha instructed her and after she had, put another scoop of the soap on her head. Rubbing it in again, she offered the bowl to Annabella. 'To wash yourself,' she said. 'Though you will have to take your leaves off first.'

Annabella quickly took it off, and rubbed the soap into her skin. Luxuriating in the feel of clean skin. She ducked one more time, spreading out her hair to make sure it was soap free.

'Come on,' Martha said, taking her hand. 'We have to get back to the village, they will be waiting for us.'

'But I'm...' Annabella looked down at her naked body visible to her, even though the water was up to her neck.

'Silly. You have to get dressed first. And we need to sort out your hair.'

Annabella nodded her head.

'Look, I can see you are embarrassed about your naked body. I will go and put out the fire while you get dressed.'

'With the material?'

'Yeah just wrapped it around you.'

'Okay,' she replied but she wasn't too sure about just wearing a piece of material. 'I will try.'

Martha sighed. 'It's easy to put on. Look I will show you.' She stepped out of the water so that her own clothing, a long piece of material clung to her. She put her hand behind her neck, and then pulled it from around her neck and undid it, holding it out to ends either side of her.

Annabella blushed and shyly looked away from the now naked girl.

'You really are embarrassed,' Martha exclaimed laughing. 'Look you just put the material behind you, and then wrap the ends around your neck like this.' She reattached it.

'Okay.'

Martha started to walk away. 'I will be back in a couple of minutes.'

Annabella waded out of the water, looking around her to make sure there were no peeking eyes watching her. She grabbed up the piece of cloth, it felt really softly woven and covered in a pattern of flowers. She put it on like Martha had shown, just tying it when the girl came back.

'Good. You look much better already.' She was carrying a small bowl with more gloopy liquid in it. 'It's salve for your bruises and cuts,' she told Annabella started to gently rub it over the wounds. Then she picked up the bone toothed comb and told Annabella to turn around. She started to comb her hair, starting at the bottom, easing all the snaggles out of it.

'Your hair is so pretty,' she murmured. 'There is a man who lives on our island with similar hair but it isn't anywhere as nice as this. Maria is his daughter.' She started to plait it, making two short braids which she tied off with some vine. 'Come on, you are ready to go to the village now. From what the others said, they are really excited about having a visitor to the island, especially a pretty girl in need of help.'

The village was pretty basic, just huts very similar to those she'd grown up with in Hobart. Just clay and straw mixtures against a frame of wood. She instantly felt at home.

There weren't many people around, one or two older men and lots of younger girls and boys, some middle aged too. They all had brown skin. Martha let her up to where a man was sitting surrounded by children and some of the older adults.

'Is this our visitor?' he asked.

Martha nodded her head.

'And what is your name child?'

'Annabella,' she said shyly.

'Well welcome to our village. Stay as long want.'

'She could stay forever George,' Martha pointed out.

'Indeed, if that is what she wants?' He stared at Annabella. 'Is it what you want?'

'I don't know, maybe I guess.'

He grinned. 'Well tell us if you decide to stay. We are few and another would be good to have. And I think we already have a few admirers for you.' He indicated where a group of young men were staring at her.

She blushed.

'George, Annabella wants to know how we are half English and speak that language.'

'I bet she does. Take her to Duddie; he's now the official story teller.'

Martha nodded and dragged her to a hut. The children and young men followed.

'Duddie.' Martha called into the dark interior.

A boy crawled out and looked up at her. 'Martha,' he smiled. 'What can I do to help you?' He turned to stare at Annabella. 'And your lovely friend?'

'Tell her the story of how are people came to be on this island.'

He nodded and sat on the ground cross legged.

Everyone sat around him. Annabella sat down, her legs to one side to keep her modesty.

'Our grandparents came to this island in 1789, our grandmothers Tahitians and our grandfathers from a land far away called England. We are their descendants. The English came in a sailing ship to Tahiti looking for bread fruit. They were supposed to just collect the fruit but they found the native Tahitians enthralling. Especially the women. Many formed relationships which when they had to leave to set sail for England were broken.

'But how did they come to be together here then?' Annabella frowned.

'The captain of that ship was a very brutal man but there was a first mate that cared about the men. He had tried to stop the captain mistreating the men on their journey out. But he had met a girl on Tahiti, fell in love with her and married her. When it was time for them to leave he didn't want to go, but he had no choice. But it was too much for him. For all of them, so they mutinied. They cast the captain and several of the other sailors in a boat and took the ship back to Tahiti. I know because my father told me and he was told by his mother. The first mate was my grandfather, Fletcher Christian.'

'We are all descendants of those mutineers,' Martha added.

'They knew that if Bligh, the captain, reached an English colony he would go back to England and report them. They'd be wanted men. So they decided to leave Tahiti. Take with them their Tahitian women and some of the men too. And they found this island and settled here out of the way of the authority of the English. They scuttled the ship, the Bounty in the Bay.'

'So you never have any ships come here?' Annabella asked.

'They come now, but not first of all. The first English ship came in 1808, by then all but one of the mutineers were dead as were two of the Tahitian women and all of the Tahitian men. John Adams, the last mutineer, was in charge but they pardoned him. I used to talk to him growing up about what had happened. He died when I was nine, five years ago. Anyway, I have to say, welcome to our island. We don't get many visitors; the last one was Maria's father who is our school teacher John Buffett.'

'Yes Annabella, welcome to the island.' Martha grinned. 'Welcome to Pitcairn.'

Annabella slept in Martha's hut that night, alongside her brothers and sisters, and parents. It felt good to be under cover again, to have a roof over her head. So much so that she fell asleep within minutes.

She was awoken by sunlight streaming through the door to the hut and Martha crouched beside her. She was gently shaking her and urgently whispering in her ear.

'What?' Annabella said sleepily. Sitting up she rubbed her eyes.

'Come on,' Martha was saying. 'We have to go.'

'Why?'

Martha grinned. 'Your arrival must have been lucky for us. We haven't seen a boat for months and now there is one just arrived in the bay.'

Annabella stretched and stood up. She quickly put her dress back on, making sure that she held her sheet in front of her until the last minute so she'd never be naked. 'Really? There's a boat?'

Martha nodded, starting to roll the mat that Annabella had slept on. 'Put your sheet in this box over there' she instructed opening it for her. She opened another and put the mat in it.

Annabella folded the sheet and did what Martha had said. Closing the lid, she turned to look at where Martha was now leaning half out of the house, staring towards where the boat must surely be.

'Let's go,' Annabella giggled.

They ran to the bay, hand in hand. But when they arrived, Annabella stopped for a second. It looked just like the convict's ship.

'Come on,' Martha urged and then noticed the look of fear over her new friend's face. 'What's wrong?'

'The convicts,' was all Annabella could manage to squeak out.

'The convicts?' Martha shook her head in confusion.

'It's the convicts' ship.'

'What?' Martha looked towards the boat and then back at Annabella. She grinned. 'No its not. It's just the boat that brings us supplies. There are no convicts aboard the Matilda. Just sailors and our Tahitian cousins. I've known many of them since I was little.'

'The ship is called the Matilda? Not the Frederick?'

'The Matilda,' Martha said firmly, yanking at Annabella's hand. 'Are you coming then?'

'Yes,' Annabella laughed allowing herself to be pulled towards the boat. When she was close enough she looked for the name of the ship of its side. 'It really is the Matilda,' she whispered to herself. Up close it didn't look anything like the ship that had been taken by the convicts. It was smaller but had two masts.'

Several men jumped off the boat, and started to walk towards where Martha and Annabella were.

'Hello Martha,' one of them said, a brown haired lad. 'How are you today? You know I've been dreaming of this island all month.'

'Dreaming of the cooking more like,' another snorted. 'The women of this island are brilliant cooks. You can only get some of their food right here, nowhere else. Especially as they won't give up the recipes.'

A blond haired man, one of the group, smiled. 'I will look forward to sampling it then.' He turned to Annabella. 'What's your special recipe?' he asked a glint of attraction in his eyes.

'I haven't got a recipe...' she stammered.

'Annabella is new to the island. She only arrived yesterday so hasn't had time to learn our ways.'

The brown haired lad frowned. 'How did you arrive?' He looked at Martha. 'Have you had another ship here delivering you supplies?'

She laughed. 'No, your business is quite safe. Annabella didn't arrive by boat.'

'How then? Did she fly?'

'Don't be silly.' Martha stamped her foot. 'She was swept overboard from his ship. The sea washed her to our island.'

'That must have been scary.' He stared at Annabella, waiting for her response.

She sighed. 'I can hardly remember it all now. I'm just glad to have found a people and a friend here.' She smiled at Martha.

'Hey Jonathan.' The other man chortled. 'You and this girl are a right pair. Both shipwrecked and found. We find you in a lifeboat and she's washed up here.'

'You were shipwrecked?' Annabella shyly stared at him.

'I was.'

'Oh no,' the lad said. 'He's about to start telling a story. I'm off.'

'Yeah me too.'

'Well I'm not.' Annabella smiled at the man. 'I'd like to hear about what happened to you. Will you tell me?'

'I'd be delighted too.'

'I will have to miss the story,' Martha said, a knowing look on her face. 'I have to go and see Arthur, my husband to be.'

'My mother Maria is English, born in Oxford of missionary parents. For many years she lived in Ecuador with them, but when she got to school age they sent her back to England for her education. When she was eighteen, she returned, as she had many times over the years, but that time it was for good. She was going to help her parents who were getting older.'

Jonathan stopped talking for a moment while they sat down on a small hill, more of a bump in the landscape really.

He stared out at the bright blue sea. 'She'd trained to be a teacher so that was what she did in Ecuador. She taught the native children. Maths, reading, writing. And she also taught some of the older people too. Including one man. Alvaro stood out amongst his friends. First of all he was a lot fairer than anyone else as he was only half Ecuadorian, half English. But he was also very clever. Soon my mother wasn't teaching him anymore, he was helping her. And when she wasn't working, he was showing her around Quito, taking her on the back of donkeys to see the smoking mountains, volcanoes, or to the oldest Church in the city, El Belén.'

'How did they understand each other?' Annabella interrupted him. 'If she was from England and he from Ecuador, surely they spoke different languages.'

'The people of Ecuador use Spanish as their main language. My mother had learnt how to speak that from when she was a little girl but she had also taken Spanish at school and university.'

'Ah,' Annabella grinned. 'Of course. Go on with your story please.'

He nodded and started to talk again. 'They had gone from being teacher and student, to teacher and helper, but things changed again. They became friends and then closer. They married at El Belén on a sunny day in October, 1807 and five years later I arrived.'

'The man, Alvaro, he was your father?'

'Yes.'

'Why are you so blond? If you are half Ecuadorian...' She trailed off and looked at her feet.

Jonathan laughed. 'I am three quarters English and only one quarter Ecuadorian. I said my father was pretty fair, he had light brown hair and blue eyes.'

'Had?'

'I haven't seen either of my parents for years. I was sent to school in England like my mother when I was five. But I would return to Ecuador during the summer holidays. But when I was seven years old things changed in the city. The people wanted independence from Spain, and quite rightly too, but it meant I couldn't visit for a long time. By the time everything had settled again, I was seventeen and in the middle of some important exams and about to go to Oxford to study education and teaching. But even then I was eager to see them again, and the city I loved, but my parents told me in letters that it was best I stayed away. That I needed to concentrate on my education and then once I was a teacher to return.'

'You've not seen your parents since you were seven? How old are you know?'

'I am twenty two years old so it's been a long time.'

'That's fifteen years...'

'Yes. A long time like I said. But I've been around my family all that time, just not my parents. I have cousins in England, aunts, uncles, grandparents. Even a second niece or too. I was well loved and had regular letters from my parents. I didn't really feel too much deprived. But then the letters stopped coming. The last one arrived a year ago but when another didn't follow I just thought they were busy. There were no more reports of unrest in the area and post does take a long time to travel between Ecuador and England. I thought maybe a letter had been lost or something like that. But when I had not heard from them in six months, I decided to find out why. I boarded a ship five months ago. There were none going from England to Ecuador so I had to travel to Europe, to Spain where I boarded another boat that would travel around Africa and then over the Pacific to Ecuador. It was a long journey, I spent months on that ship but half way across the Pacific a sudden storm started up and the ship was pulled apart. Many of us managed to escape in a life boat, thank goodness it had one, but we were in it for days and one by one everyone died but me. I was nearly dead myself when the Matilda found me. They took me on board, nursed me back to life. They promised they would take me to Ecuador but they had to visit some of the little islands dotted around the area first. Taking supplies. I offered to help in return for their care. And so I find myself here with the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.'

Annabella blushed and tucked a stand of hair that had wriggled free of her braids behind her ear. 'I'm not beautiful,' she muttered under her breath but she still felt pleased that he had said it.

Before Jonathan could reach out and take her hand in his, they were interrupted by Martha.

'Annabella, Arthur is going collecting bird eggs for tonight's celebration,' she said excitedly. 'He says you can come too. I Will you come?'

'To the bird's nests?'

'Yeah,' she pointed up at the mountain behind her. The middle of the island. 'They are up there, near the top.'

'I've never collected bird's eggs,' she said uncertainly. 'Wouldn't someone else be better going than me?'

'Half the island's going anyway. Oh please say you will come, it's loads of fun.' She looked at Jonathon who had pulled back his hand. 'The sailors are going too.'

Jonathon coughed.

'I'm sure this young man here would help you up there. You two can be a team.'

Annabella blushed. She looked at Jonathon. 'Do you want to collect eggs?'

'Why not? I've climbed many a mountain while I was in England so I will be able to help you.'

She smiled at him and then turned to Martha. 'Okay then.'

Brilliant,' she ran off. Turning around she shouted. 'I will meet you outside my hut in half an hour.'

Annabella grinned and turned to look at Jonathon.

'We will need rope,' he said. 'I'll meet you at her hut in half an hour too.' He started to run and then stopped. Running back to her, he said. 'Where is her hut?'

Annabella giggled and took his arm. 'I will show you,' she said.

Annabella panted with excursion. Step after step, she climbed the side of the mountain. It was steep and she was sure that her legs would be sore from using muscles she didn't usually use.

'Come on Annabella,' Martha skipped ahead, carrying a wicker basket over her arm.

But Annabella kept slipping, right into the arms of Jonathon behind her. 'I'm sorry,' she said for the tenth time since they'd started.

'Don't be,' he put his hands on her waist and helped her over a jagged rock. Climbing up himself, there was a glint in his eyes that said that he didn't mind at all her falling into him.

'Come on you two,' Martha laughed. 'Stop flirting.'

Finally they reached the top of the mountain, and Annabella looked through smoke to where birds were nesting. Some of the men walked in amidst the nests, the birds squawking angrily as they flew away.

'Okay you with baskets start collecting eggs,' he ordered. 'We'll keep the birds off you.'

A pair of feet tangled in Annabella's hair and she narrowly avoided a beak intent on her eyes. A man whacked it away.

'Stupid birds,' he muttered.

'They are only protecting their nests,' Annabella said.

'Well I'll let them peck those pretty eyes of yours out shall I?' He towered over her.

'I will protect her,' Jonathon quickly said.

The man, a great brute in his middle thirties looked down at him with disgust. 'You're just a boy,' he muttered as he glared at him. Then after taking one more glance at Annabella he moved away.

She didn't say anything, just bent down over a nest and stared at the blue speckled eggs within it. Tears came to her eyes. 'I don't think I can.'

'We have to eat Annabella,' Martha stepped over a nest and crouched down next to her. 'It's survival of the fittest on this island.'

Annabella stared at her. Wiping the tears angrily away, she sobbed.

'Here, give me your basket,' Martha put out her arm. 'You take mine and go wait over there.' She pointed to the path down to the village.

'No, I can do it,' Annabella grimaced and reached out and took one of the eggs. She nearly dropped it with surprise. 'It's warm,' she hissed.

'Of course it is, the birds have just been sitting on them.'

'Oh,' she reached out again and picked the egg up. Gently she put it into the basket, lined with material and then took another and antler. 'Are we emptying all the nests?'

'No, or there will be no eggs to collect in the future. We always leave a section of the nests, not going near to them so our scents not on it. The bird might reject a chick born of a nest that's been tampered with. Because of that we make sure that we take all the eggs from a nest.'

It was while they were coming down the mountain carrying baskets filled with eggs that it happened. Jonathon stood on a loose rock and slipped. His eggs flew up into the air, smashing down onto the rocks where they dripped egg yolk. He put his hands out to break his fall; tried pulling his legs back, but all he did was scuff the skin on his hands and twist his legs so that one of them separated from the other into a funny angle. There was a crack as he half did the splits, and a bone tore its way out of his leg and pitches.

'Arrrhhhhh,' he screamed, turning very pale.

Annabella was by him in an instant, Martha quickly following her. Together they ripped the rest of the material away from his leg; it was already turning from a light brown to a darker one, with a hint of red.

'We have to get him down the mountain,' Annabella shouted looking around for any trees. 'There are no trees up here, no branches we can use to support his leg.'

'Arthur,' Martha shouted to where he was still walking down the mountain, having been in front and not realizing there was a problem. 'Jonathan has broken his leg; we need the stretcher and some branches and string.'

In the distance you could just make out his head nodding, before he scampered down the mountain.

'All my healing supplies are in the village,' Martha said.

Annabella nodded and looked at the young man. He'd fainted.

'Hopefully he won't wake up until we've got him down this mountain,' Martha said, tapping her foot as they waited for help. 'Why was I so stupid? I should have brought some bottles of marjarla bark medicine. They're on my shelf right now. But I didn't think to bring any. It's been such a long time since there has been any accident on the mountain.'

'I guess your people are so used to coming up here, they know every stone. You are all as sure footed as deer.'

'Pretty much,' Martha grinned and then pointed down the hill. 'Look, Arthur is coming back up the hill.'

They managed to get him down the mountain while he was still unconscious but he woke as they came to the village. Annabella took hold of his hand as the men carried him to the healer's hut.

'You will be okay,' she told him.

'What's going on?' he slurred his words. 'Where am I? Who are you?'

Annabella had seen this disorientation many times when she had watched her mother treat broken limbs, especially ones as bad an injury as Jonathon's. She'd helped set many a bone in her time too.

'Why aren't we taking him to your hut?' she asked Martha, thinking they should have been going the other way.

'I'm still only training at the moment. That break is really bad; he will need our main healer Ruth.'

'Is she good?'

'The best,' Martha smiled and put her hand on Annabella's shoulder. 'You don't have to worry; he will be in safe hands with her.'

The hut they were heading for was different than the other ones. It was bigger and Annabella saw as they hurried in, had a large area in the middle that was set up for healing. A large woman came running towards them.

'Ruth, his break is really bad,' Martha said as Ruth directed the men as to where to put the stretcher.

'Is it only his leg?' she asked Martha. 'Has he hurt anywhere else?'

'He's cut his hands,' Annabella interrupted. 'I don't think they are, but his arms will need checking for breaks.'

Ruth shook her head. 'I think we will leave the medical diagnosis to those who are trained as healers' she said snottily. 'You can wait outside.'

'But I am a healer,' she tried to say but already the woman was pushing her outside.

'Ruth, I think she is a healer. We talked last night and her knowledge of herbs is far more than even the most interested amateur would have. Anyway, she could help.'

Ruth looked at Annabella. 'You are really a healer?'

'Yes, my mother taught me and her mother before her. I come from a long line of healers from way back. From what I've been told there were members of my family that tended the sick during the Black Death outbreak and others that filled the stomachs of the poor with herbs during the Irish famine.'

'Impressive,' Ruth said. 'Well it would be if I knew anything about those events.' She sighed. 'You can stay, but you aren't to touch anything and must do exactly as I tell you.'

'Okay,' she nodded and then looked at where Jonathon was riving on the bed. 'He needs some pain relief,' she said. 'And something more powerful than marjarla bark tea. At least until that bone is set.'

'And what would you suggest?' Ruth challenged her.

'I would say that the best remedy for his immediate pain considering the leg has to be straightened and then set would be a tea made with crushed poppy seeds. It's very dangerous so I'd only use a little but I haven't seen any poppies around here so...'

'I have my own little garden where I grow poppies. No one but me,' she looked at Martha. 'And my assistant knows where it is because as you said it is dangerous. It's also highly addictive but as you say we need to straighten his leg.' She looked at Annabella with something approaching respect. 'Yes we will use poppy seeds; I have a small bottle with some in just in case we need it. Martha can you get it please?'

Martha went to the back of the hut, where a little room was separated from the main one.

'Now apart from poppy seed and marjarla bark, what other herbs do you think we should use?'

Jonathon groaned a little when they eased him up, his eyes flickered when they moved him, supporting his weight until his legs were free of the bed...Ruth gently held the foot of the one broken, while Martha and Annabella held on to his body. Ruth and started to pull the leg, slowly, ever so slowly the bone moved, back into his leg. With one more yank, with the girls immobilising his upper body, it popped back into place.

Jonathon sat up at this, and then flopped down in a faint, his eyes rolling.

Annabella quickly checked him; while Martha helped Ruth put a temporary splint on his leg. Then they moved him back onto the bed.

'Okay, Annabella, you wash the wound on his leg with the marigold liquid that will make sure it will heal cleaning, and Martha can get me my sewing kit.'

She nodded, and started to clean the wound out. Then she stood back and watched as Ruth stitched it together and covered the wound with a poultice of marigold and iris leaves to draw out any poisons. She took the temporary split off, while supporting his leg, wrapped it in strips of material and putting the split back on, but adding more wood so the leg was surrounded; she wrapped more material around it.

Then they washed, treated and covered his other wounds, giving him marjarla tea when they'd finished and leaving him to sleep.

'You two,' Ruth said pointing at them. 'Go and get changed, it's a special night tonight and young women should not miss it.'

'Okay,' Martha giggled, grabbing Annabella's hand.

'But I want to stay...'

'I will look after your young man,' the older woman said, her eyes twinkling with merriment.

'Okay,' Annabella finally agreed, not realising that the woman had said Jonathon was her man. She willingly went with Martha.

They ran passed Martha's hut, into which she went in coming out with a few bundles. Then they ran towards the lake, where others were bathing.

Annabella looked down at her blood soiled clothes with disgust but then at the people enjoying the water. Some of them weren't bathing but kissing. 'I can't,' she stepped backwards.

'Oh for goodness sakes Annabella,' Martha tried to pull her into the water.

'But they're all naked and some of them...' she saw a couple by some bushes at the edge of the lake and blushed.

Martha shook her head, and once again took her hand. This time though she didn't try to drag her into the lake but away from it.

'Where are we going?'

'There's a pool nearby,' was all Martha said.

They walked for about five minutes, coming upon a little pool of water. Thankfully there was no one nearby.

Martha opened her bundles and took something white out of one. She broke it in half. 'It's soap,' she said. 'We only use it for special occasions.' Then she took some material out of another bundle and hung it up on a nearby tree. Lastly she put a brush on a rock.

'You bathe here,' she said. 'I will come and get you once I've had a wash.'

Annabella frowned. 'Aren't you going to bathe here?' 'I will be back'

'No I'm going back to the lake,' she said. 'You will soon find out why I don't want to bathe here.' And she was gone.

Annabella sighed, and after looking around to make sure she was really alone, took of the material that served as a dress. She stepped into the still water, and stepped out again.

'Brrr, it's cold,' she shivered, knowing now why Martha had gone back to the lake.

It was even colder in the middle of the pool, icy. She could feel stone underneath her feet or at least she thought it was stone, but as it was slippy she thought it could possibly be ice. But however cold it was, it was better than bathing in front of an audience so she quickly ducked under the water, gasping for air as she came up. Then she rubbed the soap in her hands, putting the suds into her hair, rubbing them in and then ducking under again. Finally she washed her body and stepped out of the water, shivering madly.

She squeezed her hair out as best as she could, and picked up the material. It wasn't just a piece of material but a tunic. Someone had sewn it, using a needle to painstakingly sew on the tiny shells that decorated it. She put it on, and started to brush her hair.

And all the while a pair of eyes watched her.

Her hair was nearly dry when Martha came back. She'd actually thought she was coming back a few minutes before but quickly decided that the rustle of bushes must have been an animal brushing passed, maybe a monkey.

'Are you ready? She asked. She too was dressed in a similar tunic and had flowers around her neck and more in her hair. She had some more in a little bag. Bending down she started to weave Annabella's hair to pile on top of her head, the flowers decorating it. 'We'll look really pretty tonight,' she grinned, nudging Annabella in the back.

The smell of food hit them as soon as they got back to the village. Tables had been set up between the huts and were laden with dishes. A meaty stew sat next to a roast bird. The head of a pig next to a large cake. Bananas roasted in their skins, apples filled with sugar, seaweed soup. The food was endless, and never ending. And smelt great.

'Get yourself a plate,' Martha nodded to where large shells were stacked on a table.

Annabella took two, and filled both with some of the delicacies.

'Are you extra hungry?' Martha asked. 'You have two plates.'

'One is for Jonathon,' she responded.

'Good idea, I will get some food for Ruth and we can take it now. And then we can get back to the party, there's going to be dancing soon.'

Annabella nodded her head and waited for Martha while she stacked food on a large shell for the healer. Together they walked to the healer's hut. Martha handed the plate to the woman who tried to shoo the two of them out and back to the celebration but Annabella wanted to check on the injured man first and get him to eat some of the food.

'I can get him to eat you know,' Ruth said with a twang of exasperation in her voice. 'A fine young man like that in my bed, I would gladly feed him.'

Annabella looked at her sharply.

'Don't even mind missing the celebration,' the woman continued not realising how Annabella was reacting.

'I will stay here,' she said and walked to where Jonathon was snoozing. She shook his shoulder gently and groggily he opened his eyes.

'Annabella,' he said trying to sit up and then lying back down when pain shot through his leg.

'How are you feeling?'

'In pain,' he grimaced. 'But better for seeing you.'

'I have brought you some food,' she passed him what looked like a chicken leg and watched his white teeth tear into it.

'Thanks,' he sighed.

'What's wrong?'

'I've got a broken leg. The sailors won't take me to Ecuador now, not without a healer and I need to get there as soon as I can to find out what has happened to my parents.'

'Maybe Martha would go with you and then she can come back when the boat comes back here.'

'I'm not leaving the island,' Martha stated. 'I will be eighteen soon and can get married then. I'm not missing it for anyone.'

Annabella looked at the healer and then away again. She didn't think that Jonathon would want her to accompany him.

'Could you come with me?' He reached and pulled her hand to him. 'Please.'

'I don't know. I really like it here.'

'Oh.'

'Look I will think about it okay. Now eat your food.'

Jonathon grinned, clearing the shell plate of food. When his stomach was filled he turned back to her. 'Will you stay and keep me company?' He looked at her eagerly.

'We should really be getting back to the celebration,' Martha said. 'The dancing will begin soon and I want to make sure I get to Arthur first before some other girl naps him for the night.'

'The celebration?' He stared at her. 'I don't want you missing it for me. Go on, go. I will be fine. The healer will look after me.' He gulped.

'Okay,' Annabella said uncertainly. 'But I will be back later to make sure you are okay.'

As soon as they got back to the celebration, Martha ran off to find Arthur, leaving Annabella alone. But she wasn't that way for long.

A man sidled up to her and put his arm around her waist. She tried to move away but his fingers gripped into her side.

'You will dance with me won't you?'

She could feel his hot breath on her cheek as he leant in close to her.

She managed to wriggle free. 'Can't dance,' she said as she breathlessly hurried towards the tables where people were still eating.

'Annabella.'

Startled she turned in the direction of the voice but was relieved to see it was only the young lad Duddie.

'Hi,' she smiled.

'Have you had some of the bread fruit?' he asked. 'You know if it wasn't for my grandfather and the rest of the men of the Bounty coming to this area for bread fruit, we wouldn't be here now. Our grandfathers would never have met our grandmothers.'

'Really?' She bit into one of the fruit. 'Uh, that's disgusting,' she said before she could stop herself.

Duddie laughed. 'Don't like them myself either.' He picked up a plate. 'Here try these bread fruit crisps, they are much more palatable.'

Timidly she bit into one, hearing it crunch in her mouth. They did taste better.

'They cook them in sesame oil,' he said. 'And use spices to add flavour. They can be a little hot sometimes. Especially the aftertaste. It's a killer.'

Burning hit the roof of her mouth.

'Have something to drink,' he offered her a wooden cup.

Gratefully she filled her mouth with the liquid, immediately realising it was alcohol. 'I don't drink,' she said as she put the cup on the table. 'I'm too young.'

'Really? I drink all the time.' He picked up the cup and downed it in one. 'Would you like to dance?'

'I, um,' she blushed. She could see Martha dancing with Arthur and they looked very close, far too close for comfort. 'I will dance if we can just hold hands,' she finally agreed.

They walked into the group of dancers, bodies pressed into each other and holding hands and standing apart they started to dance. Duddie inched his way closer to her.

'You are really pretty you know,' he said, winking at her.

'Thank you,' was all she could say, desperately wanting the dance to be over.

Couples kept bumping into them, and each time that happened Duddie used it as an excuse to step a bit closer. Soon he was looking down at her. His eyes on her neckline.

'I'm not feeling very well,' she mumbled breaking away from him and starting to run. She found herself outside the healer's hut. She was just about to go and see Jonathon again when she heard someone crying.

Annabella tiptoed around the hut to the back of it where she found a little girl sitting on her own. She had her head in her hands, was trembling and the tunic she was wearing was stained with tears.

'What's wrong?'

The girl jumped and tried to hurry away but Annabella managed to catch her arm.

'Don't make me go back,' she sobbed. 'Please, don't make me. I don't want to. I'm so scared.'

Annabella frowned. 'What are you scared about?'

'I'm a woman now,' the girl said. 'I turned twelve this morning and now...' he started to cry again, sniffing snot up her nose.

'You don't have to be frightened about being a woman,' Annabella said. 'It's wonderful. And to turn twelve, wow. I remember when I turned twelve, we had a big party and everyone gave me gifts.'

'I don't' want a party.'

'Of course you do. Every girl wants a party for her birthday.'

'Well I don't.'

'Okay you don't have to have a party.'

The girl looked at her. 'I don't? Really?' Her face was expectant but when she heard the music from the celebration it fell again. 'But the party is still happening. I might not want it but it's still going to happen.'

Annabella pulled a face. 'That's just the celebration.'

'The celebration, yes, my party.' The girl sighed. 'Because I'm twelve.'

'The celebration is for you, because you are twelve. How wonderful,' Annabella clapped her hands and laughed.

'If you think it's so wonderful you can take my place,' the girl said. 'I don't want it, I never wanted it. I'm so scared. I've heard it hurts.'

'Hurt?'

'When you become a woman.'

'Oh, yes I suppose it does. I often get cramped in my stomach when I'm bleeding and sometimes feel very grumpy...'

The girl laughed but it wasn't filled with merriment, nor was it mocking but was full of self pity. 'I'm not on about the moon time. That doesn't hurt that much. No I'm on about... well you know.'

Annabella shook her head. She didn't know. She had no idea what the girl was talking about.

'You know when you become a woman, it hurts. When you lose your virginity.'

Annabella blushed. 'I don't think you have to worry about that for years yet. I'm eighteen and still a virgin.'

The girl stared at her with amazement. 'How did you keep the men away?'

'What?'

'The men that chase you as soon as you turn twelve.'

'Men don't chase twelve year old girls.'

'Yes they do.'

'Not where I'm from.'

'Well they do here.'

'What! I don't understand. You are saying that the men on this island chase girls once they are twelve.'

'Yes to have sex with them.'

'But that's terrible. Why don't your elders stop them?'

'It is the elders. The old men, the young, the middle aged. They all do it to every girl.'

Annabella shuddered.

'That's what tonight is about. My first time. The mayor is supposed to...' she started to cry again.

She didn't know how to respond, nothing in her life had prepared her for such a situation. She was glad when she heard a voice calling her name.

Martha came around the back of the hut. 'Found you,' she grinned. 'I thought I saw you dancing with Duddie but then you were gone.' She noticed the girl. 'What are you doing here Hannah?' She put her hands on her hips. 'You should be in the new woman hut. '

'She's scared,' Annabella said. 'She thinks the mayor is going to... going to...'

Martha stared at her 'Going to what?'

'She thinks he intends to sleep with her tonight.'

Martha laughed. 'He doesn't want to sleep with her.'

'No, he's got a perfectly good bed in his hut with his wife. He's just going to have sex with her. Take her virginity as is his right.'

'His right?' Annabella stood up, and angrily stepped in front of Hannah. 'She's just a child, she said with disgust.

'She's twelve, a woman, its time. I remember when I turned twelve; it only hurt for a little while. Of course we had a different mayor then.'

'Different? They did it to you too?'

'Did what? Had sex with me? Yeah, so what? It's normal.'

'It is not normal. Not at twelve.' Suddenly the idyllic island didn't seem so nice anymore.

'Whatever Annabella. John Christian said you were a cold fish. Seems he was right.'

'John Christian?'

'Yeah he was chatting you up before. Just after I went to dance with Arthur and before you danced with Duddie. So that's two amazing men you've turned down today. They won't want you in their beds now.'

'Good, I don't want to be in their beds.'

Martha scowled at her and then turned back to Hannah. 'Come on,' she ordered the girl. 'I will take you to the mayor.'

'No.' Annabella stood in her way.

'She has no choice.'

'Of course she does. She doesn't have to sleep with anyone, especially at her age.' She looked at Hannah. 'You could run away. One of the men from the boat in the bay has asked me to come with him to Ecuador. I've decided to say yes, you could come with me.'

'I can't,' she squeaked. 'I can't leave my mama, my family and friends. This island is all I know.'

'You could make a new life.'

'No.' She stepped around Annabella. 'I will go with Martha to the mayor.'

'But...'

'It won't be so bad.'

Martha wrapped her arm around the girl, protectively but also controlling. 'I think it's good that you are going to go with Jonathon,' she said. 'I thought you would fit in here but I was wrong.'

She spent the night by Jonathon's bedside, the older woman glaring at her all the time.

The next day they crew of the boat, having heard what had happened, came to see him. They'd spent the night in drunkenness, not realising what evils were happening so close. It was soon decided that Annabella could indeed join them as without a healer Jonathon would not be able to travel as no one on the boat would have the time, or skills, to look after him.

And so in the morning she found herself on the ship as it left the island. She had spent a long time in the hull of the boat, but eventually she'd decided to go on deck and was met by the sight of Martha walking towards her.

'Hello,' she said dully, not really wanting to talk to the girl.

'Annabella, I have considered you to have become a friend these last few days and I couldn't let you go without saying goodbye. Our ways are different, you have grown up in a very different world to me, but that shouldn't matter. I'm sorry I was so horrible to you last night. I shouldn't have been. The truth is my first night when I was twelve was horrible. And so it was for every other woman on the island.'

'If it is horrible, then you should stop it.'

Martha shrugged her shoulders. 'I could tell the waves that hit our shoreline to go somewhere else but it would still come. The men are in charge and the women little more than property. I can't change it.'

'You could leave.'

She sighed. 'I am not as adventurous and brave as you. I would be too scared to leave. The island might be wrong but it is a wrong I know whereas out there...'

'Better the devil you know,' Annabella said.

'Yes, better the devil I know. From what you've told me, the world is a harsh place and though the men on this island use the girls they still look after them too. Anyway I will be eighteen soon and will marry my Arthur. The men don't abuse married women, so I will be safe.'

'And if you have a baby?'

'If I have a baby, then I will hope it is a boy.'

Annabella nodded.

'But I will try to teach him to respect girls, not to abuse them. Change my society from within. I hope.'

'I wish you luck with that.'

'Thank you Annabella, I think I will need it.' She leant forward and caught Annabella in a hug. 'I will remember you,' she whispered into her hair. I will remember our friendship until my dying day.'

Annabella wiped a tear from her eye as she saw the girl she'd only known a short time leave the boat. She would miss her.

Annabella stood on the deck of the boat and watched the water race passed them as wind in the sails pushed it forward. Once again she was dressed in boy's clothes but this time it was for practical reasons not so she could pretend to be what she wasn't. The piece of flimsy material that made a dress might have been alright for life on an island but not at sea. So she wore britches and a shirt, a pair of sturdy shoes with grips that would make sure she didn't slip on a slick deck.

It had been a couple of weeks since they'd left. In that time they'd managed to travel a long way and she'd been told to expect to see the coast of Ecuador soon. Jonathon was doing a lot better now. He couldn't walk, not yet or at least she wouldn't let him try but he didn't really need to anyway, not with her at his beck and call.

She had been given a room on her own, as she was the only female on board. It was only small but at least it was her own place. Jonathon, though he hadn't told her at the time, had been given the captain's cabin. She had found out that his family was very well off and he had promised the sailors that they would be rewarded when they got to Quito.

But he had confided in her that he was worried about what had happened to his parents, and that there was a chance that the reason they hadn't wrote was because they were dead and their wealth stolen.

'Land ahoy.' A voice cut through her thoughts and she looked towards the distant coast for her first sight of the country they were heading for. As they came closer she saw tree after tree lining the coast.

They landed at Manta, sleepy little fishing village, the people friendly and seemingly good. But after her experiences Annabella was rather cautious.

The sailors had carried Jonathon off the boat by a stretcher and now he was laid in a bed in an inn worn out.

'Would he gentleman like some soup?' the owner asked and produced a black bean soup, fat floating on the surface.

She accepted it thankfully and tried her hardest not to grimace at how the food made her stomach feel. The soup looked like bugs swimming around in fatty liquid. Jonathon ate it with relish.

And she didn't even pull a face once. Well she did once but she hid it behind her hand.

'It is so good to be back in the land of my father,' he grinned. 'Though I wish I could walk on it instead of lay in this bed like an invalid.'

She laughed. 'You are an invalid at least for the moment. But it won't be long before I allow you to put some weight on your leg again.'

Jonathon grinned.

She stifled a yawn.

'Are you tired?' he asked. 'Look I know we've only got this bedroom between us but I said I would take the settee. You should have this bed. Then you could sleep.'

'No, I'm perfectly fine here,' she yawned again.

'Here,' he threw a blanket to her. She put it over her shoulders and lay down on the settee.

'How about I tell you a story?'

'I would like that,' she mumbled thinking that she would even more like to listen to the sound of his voice.

'A long time ago, a young man called Juan lived in one of the villages near here. His parents had died many years before and he had no one to care for him, or to cook and sew for him. He lived at the very edge of the village in a small lodge made from bark and branches. His hair was always a tangled mess, and his clothes were old and tattered cast offs he had been given in trade. The village children were cruel and made fun of him because of the way he looked and because he was an orphan. This was a time when people did not have stories to teach them how to respect and care for others. Young Juan was an excellent hunter so he traded the birds and animals he killed for food and clothes. As winter drew nearer, Juan had to go further and further into the woods to hunt. One day he went further than he had ever been before. Eventually he came to a clearing where there was a large flat smooth stone with another round stone sitting on top of it. Juan sat on the flat stone and rested his back against the round one. He laid the birds he had killed next to him. Then he reached into his buckskin pouch for some dried meat and began to eat.

'Shall I tell you a story?' asked a deep rumbling voice near him.

Juan got such a fright he nearly choked. He jumped up quickly, spitting meat from his mouth and looked around but could see no one.

'Who's there?' shouted Juan. 'Come out and show yourself.'

The clearing was silent. Nothing moved.

'' must be hearing things,' Juan said to himself. 'And now I'm talking to myself too.'

With a laugh, he sat down again and rested his back against the round stone.

'Shall I tell you a story?' asked the deep voice again.

Juan sprang to his feet and shouted 'Alright, that's enough. Show yourself now!'

Again, the clearing was silent and nothing moved.

Then Juan looked at the round stone he'd been resting against. He could see a face in it. He realised it was the stone's voice he'd heard.

'Who are you, and what are you?' asked Juan.

'I am Grandfather Stone. I've been here since time began,' answered the stone.

'Shall I tell you a story?' asked the deep rumbling voice.

'What is a story?' asked Juan. 'What does it mean to tell a story?'

'Stories tell us of all things that happened before this time,' answered Grandfather Stone. 'Give me a gift of your birds and I will tell you how the world came to be.'

'You may have the birds,' said Juan.

He sat down in front of the stone. Its deep voice told him of a time before this one, how Sky Woman fell to earth, how the Islands were made, and about stone giants. When he finished one story, the stone told another and then another. On and on he went.

As the sun began to set the stone said, 'That's enough for today. Come back tomorrow and I will tell you more stories. But don't tell anyone about what you've heard today.'

Juan ran back to the village. He managed to kill a few birds on the way to trade for hot food.

When he traded the birds with a woman in the village she asked him 'Why have you brought back so few birds from your hunting?'

'Winter is getting nearer and it's harder to find anything to hunt,' answered Juan.

Early the next morning, Juan went into the woods. He hunted for birds and then rushed back to the clearing.

'Grandfather Stone, I've brought you more birds as gifts,' said Crow. He put the birds down on the flat stone. 'Please tell me some more stories.'

Juan sat down and the stone started telling one story after another until it was nearly nightfall. This happened for many days. Juan brought back fewer and fewer birds to the village. The children of the village were even crueller to him. They made fun of him and told him that now he wasn't even a good hunter.

One day Juan came to the clearing, placed his gift on the stone and said, 'Grandfather Stone, please tell me some more stories.'

But the stone answered, 'I have no more stories to tell. You have heard all that has happened before this time. Now you must pass on the knowledge you have learned from the stories. You will be the first storyteller.

You must tell others what you have heard, and also add stories of what happens from now on. The people you tell will remember your stories. Some will remember better than others. Some will tell different versions when they pass them on. It doesn't matter. The truths and lessons from the stories will be remembered.'

'Thank you Grandfather Stone,' said Crow. 'I will make sure the stories are not forgotten.'

Juan went back to the village. He knew it was time to move on. The people here didn't respect him and wouldn't listen. He collected his few belongings and left the village without telling anyone. No one missed him.

Juan travelled far and eventually came to another village. The people welcomed him warmly. They invited him to come in out of the cold wind, sit by the fire and share their food.

After he had finished eating Juan said, 'You have been so kind I'd like to share something with you.'

He began to tell the stories he had learned from Grandfather Stone. He told them of the time when animals could speak, and when the turtle raced the bear.

That night the lodge house seemed warmer and the sound of the first storyteller's voice could be heard above the howling wind outside. People went to sleep dreaming of the stories they had heard.

The chief of the village sent runners to other villages, inviting everyone to come and hear the stories. They brought gifts of food and clothing for Juan to thank him. A beautiful young woman came and sat by him every time he spoke. She listened to every story. Many seasons passed. Juan stayed in the village and married the young woman.

When he had shared all the stories with the people of the village and its neighbours, Juan and his wife left and travelled to other villages further away, to tell the stories.

Eventually they came to the first village where he had lived before. The people didn't recognise him in his fine clothes and with his beautiful wife.

The village chief welcomed them, inviting them to sit by the fire and share their food. Juan told his stories. The people listened with their ears and their hearts.

Juan told them, 'You must not forget the stories and legends. You must pass them on to your children and your grandchildren, and they must pass them onto theirs. We can never again forget the stories and their wisdom.'

And that is how it has been from that day to this. The stories from Grandfather Stone have been handed down from generation to generation and storytellers are still honoured today by those who listen.'

He looked over to Annabella. 'Juan is a bit like you, a traveller who doesn't know where he belongs but I'd like to give you a place to belong. With me.'

She snored slightly.

'Great,' he sighed. 'I finally pluck up the courage to tell her of my feelings and she falls asleep on me.' He grinned ruefully.

While they waited at the inn for Jonathon's leg to heal he suggested that she should write to her mother so one night by the light of a candle she picked up a quill pen and paper and started to write.

'Dearest Mama and Papa. I am sorry...' Annabella put down the pen and sighed. She wasn't the least bit sorry.

Jonathon shifted in his bed, a moan coming from his mouth. She went to him but could find nothing wrong, nothing more than a broken leg that was slowly mending.

Sitting back down again, she picked up the pen and scrubbed out the latter words.

'Dearest Mama and Papa, I can't say I'm sorry about running away because I'm not. You wanted me to marry Tom but I did not. Even though we were friends as children, he grew up to be someone I didn't like, someone who just wanted to control me.' She paused for a moment and scratched her head. It has been an eventful six months, I don't think I would have got so far if it wasn't for being picked up by a ship run by escaping convicts. James Porter was on that ship, but as I was dressed as a boy and had cut my hair he didn't recognise me. Not straight away anyway and he didn't manage to hurt me, the sea rescued me from whatever he would have done. And so I was washed up onto an island which at first seemed idyllic to me but then I found it wasn't. But I met a man there, he was travelling to his home in Ecuador and I said I would accompany him, he'd broken his leg. And so I find myself in Manta, Ecuador and each day I spend with the man, Jonathon, the more I like him. So don't worry about me dear Mama and Papa, I am very happy or I will be once I've made him my man. We are about to travel to Quito, his city but once I am there I will try to send word of my marriage status to you. Love Annabella.

She folded the paper on, and spilled some wax onto it to seal it.

The next day she gave it to Jonathon who gave it to one of the Matilda's men who passed it onto the captain of a ship about to leave for Van Diemen's Land taking supplies.

It took a few more weeks for Jonathon's leg to mend and a bit more for his muscles to strengthen enough for him to be able to put weight on it. But finally he was well enough to start the journey to Quito. They hired donkeys to get them there, once again Jonathon promising to pay when they arrived. Most people would have wanted money up front, but even though he didn't know what had happened to his parents, and he had asked around enough, or sent Annabella, but his family name was enough to warrant the help he needed.

So on a sunny morning they entered the jungle following the path, or one of them, that would take them to Quito. Jonathon rode on a donkey as did Annabella, following their guide, the owner of the donkeys. A couple of the crew of the Matilda went too as did a couple of local men who wanted to go to the city and a poor family hoping to settle in the city.

But when they'd been travelling for about half a day, weary and clothes sticking to them, they heard a growl.

Looking up, she saw a large spotted cat lying on a branch not far from where they were. As she watched it languidly stretched and then jumped down to the jungle floor making the lead donkey snicker with panic. The rider tried desperately to calm the animal but it reared up, throwing him off, and then ran away. The cat started to approach the man.

'It's a jaguar,' one of the men screamed.

'Dada, are we going to die?' the youngest child of the poor family asked.

And still the animal slowly padded towards them, the other donkeys starting to get nervous.

'BANG.' A loud noise reverberated around the jungle and colourful birds, twittering with anger, flew out of the trees.

The jaguar stopped. Stood there. Its eyes just stared. And then it fell, a red mark on its side growing bigger and bigger.

The owner of the donkeys put down a flintlock gun and smiled with satisfaction. 'It's not going to hurt us now.'

That night they came to group of people living snuggled up at the bottom of a large mountain. Children and adults alike ran towards them as soon as they appeared and led them back to their cave.

Annabella stared around her surrounding with amazement. 'I didn't think anyone lived in caves anymore,' she whispered to Jonathon while smiling politely at the man who she thought was the leader of the cave.

'Most don't anymore, but some still do. Looking around they seem a pretty primitive people, I'm not really sure we should have come here. There are many tribes in this country with people that have never come into contact with the outside world. If these are one of them, I just hope that we don't give them any illness.'

'Everyone is pretty healthy,' she said. 'One or two might possibly have the beginnings of colds, they've been sneezing a bit, but a cold never hurt anyone. It won't kill them.'

'It might,' he said. 'These people have never had the cold. What is common and non life threatening to you might have the opposite reaction here. If one of us has a cold ad passes it on, well this group of people could all die.'

Annabella blinked. 'Well let's just hope there are no illnesses then.'

That night they spent eating food that the hunter/ gatherer society had cooked especially for them and they watched as mimes were acted telling the story of a hunt.

When they woke up the next morning there was another face at the fire where they sipped hot tea. And he spoke Spanish. As soon as Annabella realised that, she asked about what Jonathon had said the night before about a cold to the people being deadly.

'You don't have to worry about these people, though they choose to live hunter gatherer lives, they have frequent visitors. So unless any of you have a life threatening infectious disease there is nothing to worry about.'

And so they were able to go on their way with no worries about the people who had offered them a place to rest their heads and food in the stomach.

But by the time they had been travelling for another half a day she was beginning to wish they'd stayed with the people. Her legs and bottom hurt and her back was feeling stiff too. She was starting to feel rather sick, the motion of the donkey too much for her delicate stomach.

But she didn't say anything, just held onto the rope around the donkey's head and grimaced, her eyes squeezed shut.

A couple of hours later and she was nearly falling asleep. In fact she nearly fell off the donkey. Jonathon managed to save her before she did.

'Are you feeling ill?' he asked.

'Just a bit,' she admitted. 'I'm just fed up with riding on a donkey.'

The sound of water splashing against rocks came to her ears and as they turned around a rocky corner, she saw a waterfall cascading its clear waters down a sheer drop, filling a blue pool at its based. Little specks of foam flew off, sparkling like rainbows in the afternoon light. Ad flowers grew around the pool, filling the air with a fragrant scent.

'Are we near another settlement?' Jonathon asked their guide.

'No,' he replied. 'Many more hours to reach one and we'd have to backtrack too.'

'Backtrack? We can't do that.'

'No, that is why we are going to make camp tonight in the jungle and here is as good a place as any.'

'But what about wild animals?'

'We will set a guard and I have a canvas tent that will be big enough for the women and children. The men can sleep outside.'

Jonathon nodded his head.

'But we need to go hunting if we want to eat tonight.'

They stopped by the side of the pool, and set up camp. Building a fire, Annabella watched as all the men left to hunt, leaving her and the other woman a gun in case they needed it.

But they didn't. Annabella was able to collect some berries, she wasn't totally sure they were edible so she didn't try any, not until their guide came back and could tell her whether they were safe.

The water nearby kept sparkling at her. Gently lapping against the land, foam forming under the waterfall. She was hot, and aching. She remembered how nice it had been to bathe in the pool on Pitcairn. How it had relaxed her. The water looked so inviting. She walked to the edge of the pool, kicking off her shoes so her toes curled in the mud. She had just started to unbutton her trousers when they men came back. Sighing she did them up and crouching down just splashed some of the cool water over herself. Then she ran back to where they were camping.

One had what looked like a hairy pig slung over his shoulder, its blood dribbling down his shirt. He threw it down on the ground, where the other woman ran over to it, and with a knife started to skin it.

'Capybara,' she said. 'Its fur will make good blanket.'

Annabella had never seen a capybara before but her mother had taught her how to cut up an animal so she asked for another knife and went to help the woman.

Soon they had a haunch of meat roasting over the fire while strips were set up around it to dry.

She also showed their guide the berries who said they were not poisonous and would make a good sauce to go with the meat.

Stomachs filled, she sat by the fire and watched Jonathon as talked to their guide.

And all the while she was wondering how he felt about her.

The next morning she woke to screaming.

'The donkey,' a woman's voice shouted.

Annabella quickly put her shoes on; tapping each one upside down to make sure no poisonous spiders had climbed into them in the night. Then she rushed out to find the woman standing by the pool, a bowl in her hands. She was pointing to where the water seemed to foam, white and pink.

The guide ran up to her, and seeing the water stepped away from it.

'What's happening?' Annabella shouted about to step into the water to investigate the weird phenomenon. But then she saw something that turned her stomach. A donkey's head, it bobbed to the surface, deep wounds over its skin, blood pouring off it. A leg followed it but it wasn't attached to anything.

'What?' She looked around at the others, who were all in various stages of revulsion and horror.

A pair of hands gripped her shoulders and gently pulled her away from the water edge, turning her away from it in the process.

'Don't look,' a voice whispered and she looked up to see the concerned face of Jonathon.

'What's going on?' she asked. 'The donkey...'

'Obviously went for a drink and encountered something else,' he told her. 'I'm just glad it wasn't one of us.'

'But what's in the water?'

'Its piranhas,' their guide said. 'Nothing else could have caused what we see. They must be in the pool.'

'But they didn't hurt me. I put my hand in the water yesterday to splash myself when you all got back from hunting. I was going to have a swim but...' She tailed off as she realised what would have happened to her if she'd entered the water. She put her hand over her mouth in horror.

'Thank goodness you didn't,' Jonathon pulled her closer to him. 'I don't know what I would do if I lost you.'

They left the pool as quickly as they could. Because they were one donkey down, Annabella rode in front of Jonathon on his donkey letting one of the heavier men whose donkey had been killed have hers. But before they left, they put wood markers around the pool, daubing them with blood stained soil to warn anyone who happened by that it was dangerous.

They cleared the jungle by late afternoon and saw a range of mountains up ahead.

'My home,' Jonathon told her. 'Quito is on the other side.'

She stared in amazement at the mountains, they seemed to go on forever and no matter how much she looked left or right, she could only see them.

'How are we going to get passed them?' she asked. 'Please say we don't have to climb them.'

Okay,' he replied and then he grinned. 'When we get a bit closer you will see a path winding itself up them, its steep but the donkeys will be able to walk up it. And right at the top there is a pass through which we will walk to get to my city.'

Annabella sighed. 'But not tonight, surely not tonight.'

'Tonight everyone is tired. We only have to travel a short distance and we will come to a little village at the base of the mountain called Jesús del Gran Poder. I went there many times with my parents when I was younger, hopefully they will know what has happened to them.'

'I'm sure they are fine,' she smiled at him. 'And staying tonight in a village sounds very good. After last night, or actually this morning, I don't want to spend another day out in the open.'

Jonathon put his arm a bit tighter around her and learnt forward breathing in her scent.

'What are you doing?' she asked.

'Nothing,' he replied glad she couldn't see how red his face had become.

They arrived in Jesús del Gran Poder in the middle of a bull fight. The streets had been empty; the buildings deserted but cheering could be heard from the centre of the village. When they went nearer they could see a crowd surrounding a fenced off area where a man ran around with a red dyed cape, a bull chasing him. The crowd were clapping.

'It's a bull fair,' their guide said.

But to Annabella there didn't seem anything fair about it. He's terrorising that poor animal,' she said, turning her head away.

'That's the game though. Soon he will kill it and then it will be roasted for the celebration.'

'They have these in Quito,' Jonathon added. Seeing the look on her face he added. 'Never liked them myself.'

'It's barbaric,' was all Annabella could say.

'You will feel differentely tonight,' the guide grinned. 'You will want your fill of its meat then.'

Annabella felt her stomach move at the thought. 'I don't think so.'

And when the celebration did happen she proved herself right by sticking to a rice dish.

Each step up the mountain made her grip the robe around her donkey's neck. She was alone again, Jonathon walking beside her and so were some of the men. They gasped with each step and as they moved higher so did she.

By the time they were through the pass and coming to the city of Quito she felt like she was dying. 'There is something wrong,' she managed to say, struggling for each breath. 'There must be a disease that affects the lungs.'

They were passing through the city gates by then.

Jonathon smiled. 'Quito is so high that people have trouble breathing here. I myself, though I lived here for years, am having a little trouble. Those that have never been here before are more affected.'

'But then I can't stay here,' Annabella said. 'I have travelled all this way for nothing. I will have to go back, start again.' She felt like sobbing, but didn't because it would require too much oxygen.

'You will be okay in a couple of days,' Jonathon grinned. 'Just try to take big breaths. Most importantly there is no disease here.'

'I wouldn't be so certain of that,' their guide pointed to the city square where bodies littered the roads. There was a mass of flies above each one.

'Don't touch anything,' Annabella warned them. 'Don't drink the water; don't eat any food you find here.'

'I think we should leave,' the mother of the family whimpered.

'Yes, that is a good idea.' She turned around to look at the rest of the group. 'But I'm staying. As a healer I can't leave these people until I try to help any survivors. Anyone else that's willing can help me but all the rest of you should retreat.'

Many of the group nodded their heads. Only a few were willing to stay and help Annabella, Jonathon amongst them.

'You shouldn't go too far though,' Annabella told them. 'We don't know what has caused this, it could be airborne and you already infected. Just go out into the county, eat and drink only what you have and when that isn't possible make sure you cook anything really well, near to burning should kill what is causing this illness. Do the same to water, boil it and then cool. And you should all wear cloth over your nose and mouth. In fact,' she opened her bag and pulled out a scarf she'd been given before they'd left the village. Trying it around her face she continued to talk. 'All those staying should try material around their faces too.'

'I will stay,' the guide said at last.

'No, I want you to look after the others. You can come back into town or send someone if one or more of you get ill. And take the donkeys too, we will walk.'

The guide nodded his head, a look of relief in his eyes. He took the reins of Annabella's donkey off her and taking the rest started to walk out of the city.

'As she watched him, she nearly collapsed.

'Annabella, are you all right?' Jonathon caught her before she fell onto the dusty road.

'Just a little anxious,' she smiled up at him. 'And still finding it a bit difficult to breathe.'

As they approached the home that Jonathon had grown up in, Annabella couldn't help being amazed at the size of it. Even with the thoughts of dead and possibly dying people on her mind it still stopped her in her tracks. She gazed up at it in wonder.

'It's huge,' she said looking at the three story high white painted wooden building. It had a balcony running around the front, a rocking chair sitting emptily there. Honeysuckle flowers grew twined around the beams and along the roof. She turned to ask Jonathon something but he was already striding up the steps to the front door and tugging it open. 'No, wait.'

It was too late; he'd disappeared into the house. Sighing deeply she followed him.

The inside was even more outstanding that the outside. Directly opposite the front door and curving upwards was a set of wide stairs. Corridors ran along each side with doors dotted along the way. It was from one of these doors she heard the sound of his feet.

Running feet, running around the house. He looked in each room, she knew because she saw him. Tearing open a closed door with a look of hope on his face to be replaced with desperation when it was empty. He looked in a room with walls covered in book filled shelves, another that smelt slightly of smoke. A vast room with a massive table in the middle, another that was totally empty except for a highly polished wooden floor with stars inlaid within. Up the stairs he ran; a look of fear when he opened a doorway to a bed chamber with a bed that she'd only seen in the picture books she borrowed from the free library in Hobart. More bedrooms, filled with pink covered tables, wilting flowers, dust. The top floor, rooms with narrow beds, white sheets and grey blankets. Back down again, sobbing by now, he ran to the back of the house, to a large room, a wooden table in the middle. A cast iron oven sat at one side of the room, a large fireplace at the other. Pots and pans hung off the ceiling as did bunches of herbs. Another door led to more rooms, cupboards with large round tins, filled with cake. She slapped his hand when he tried to eat a piece making crumbs fall over the floor. Another room was cold, and had a haunch of meat hanging up in it. But it had been let too long and spelt bad.

'There's no one here,' he turned to her, grabbing her shoulder. 'There's no one here.'

'And no bodies either,' she pointed out. 'That's a good sign.'

'They could be slumped somewhere out there,' he waved in the direction of the streets they'd passed through.

'And maybe they are okay. They could be alive still, there are sure to be people alive.'

'I guess.'

'Think, where would they have gone?' She wanted him to think of this not just so he might find his parents but because there was a chance that wherever they were, there were also survivors and other people going through whatever the illness was, suffering and needing help.'

He stood for some time, a look of contemplation on his face, though echoes of fear and desperation were there too. 'I think they would have gone to the Church,' he finally said. 'The one they were married in, El Belén.'

'Okay we will go there.'

They left the house, Jonathon shutting the front door as he went. Then they walked through the streets, the other men following them. Sometimes they had to take a detour because they didn't want to step over any of the dead bodies or get too close.

The Church itself was a large white Spanish style building with a balcony around the top of the building. It had black steps leading up to its heavy wooden door. They quickly scurried up them and tried to open the door.

'It's locked,' Jonathon said, banging on it as hard as he could.

'Maybe there is another way in around the back,' Annabella suggested.

Jonathon allowed himself to be led towards the back where they did indeed find another door. It was locked. All the doors were locked as were the windows.

He started to bang on a door again, shouting to be let in. And when there was no response he would go to the next door, and the next.

Finally they heard a pair of scurrying feet within the Church and a grate in the door they'd been knocking on opened to reveal a tired looking woman.

'We have no more room,' she said starting to shut the grate again.

'No, wait,' Jonathon put his fingers through the grate so she couldn't slide the cover back into place. 'We aren't ill. We've just arrived here in Quito today. I'm looking for my parents.'

'Your parents? Who might they be?' She opened the grate again.

'Alvaro and Maria Torrez. I am their son Jonathon.'

The woman nodded her head, well as much as you could see through the grate and whispered to someone else in the room. They could hear the sound of feet running into the Church's interior. Finally there was the sound of more feet, delicate and clumpy. A face appeared in the grate.

'Jonathon,' a woman cried. 'Jonathon, is it really you?'

'Mama?'

'And papa too.' She smiled and then frowned. 'But what are you doing here? You should be in England where you were safe.' She started to cry.

'Open the door,' a voice demanded, a male voice. 'Let my son in.'

The sound of a bolt being taken out of its place sounded through the door, scratching, grating, and a bang as the bolt moved. The door creaked open and a woman ran out.

She had golden hair flying around her shoulders pushed back haphazardly with a ribbon that had lost nearly all the hair. So it flew around her head like a halo. 'My son,' she put her arms around him. 'My son,' she sobbed.

'Let the boy in,' he man said. 'And his companions.'

'You are well?' his mother asked, ignoring what her husband had said.

'Maria,' the man shouted causing her to look around. 'They have to come in so we can shut the door.'

She nodded her head and with her arm around her precious son, moved back into the Church. 'Oh Jonathon, it's been so terrible,' she cried. 'So many deaths, so many people ill. Your father has been ill.' Seeing the look of panic on her son's face she added. 'Oh he's okay now. He recovered.'

'Do you know what this illness is?' Annabella gently asked the woman who was Jonathon's mother.

Realising for the first time that her son was not alone, even though her husband had more or less said so, she smiled at Annabella. 'Are you my Jonathon's sweetheart?' she asked.

The door behind them shut, the bolt sliding back into place. They stood in a kitchen, bright sunlight beaming through the cracks of the windows where wood hadn't been placed to keep the sick out.

Annabella blushed.

'Yes Mama, what is this illness that has caused all the dead bodies outside? And you to hide in here in fear?'

'Cholera,' was all she needed to say.

'When people started getting ill about a year or so ago, we just thought it was part of life,' Maria, Jonathon's mother said. 'Death is so much a part of life here that no one thought anything off it. The deaths came, quite a few really but then with winter they went away again.'

'Is that why you never sent me a letter?' Jonathon interrupted her.

'A letter?' She shook her head. 'It is only the last couple of months that we haven't written to you.'

'But I've not heard from you for well over a year.'

'Then the letters must have got lost. You know how it is; a storm at sea washes something overboard and if a letter is in it, then that is lost too.'

'I suppose...'

'When we realised that lots of people were getting sick, we sent you a letter telling you to stay in England. But as you are here, you won't have got that.'

'No, I left England ages ago.'

'So did the disease come back when it got warm again?' Annabella asked, bringing the topic back onto cholera.

'Yes. But it was worse. People started to get really sick. The healers were running around trying to help, but they didn't know what was wrong. Not until many had died and it was too late.'

'And you know it is cholera from the symptoms?'

'The healers recognised it. Diarrhoea, vomiting, stomach cramps, dehydration and excessive thirst and often a fever. That was how my husband was, weren't you dear?'

The man who was Jonathon's father nodded his head. He was slumped in a wooden chair. 'And the after effects is exhaustion,' he said, or death.'

Annabella nodded her head. 'But you are okay now aren't you? Tired and very pale but okay?'

'I am a lot better,' he smiled.

'So how have the healers been treating the people and why are you all locked up in here and there are dead bodies out there.'

'The church is crowded. Anyone that comes here now, we tell them to go back to their homes. To clean everything, boil their water and cook all food really well. There isn't anything else we can do for them.'

'But there are herbs that could help. Why aren't the healers giving out herbs?'

Maria sighed. 'All the healers are either gone or dead. I suspect many of them lay outside with the other dead.'

'You have no healers?'

Maria shook her head.

'so no one told you that the flies that are everywhere outside, including crawling all over the bodies could get into living places and infect more people?'

'What? No.' Maria looked around, her eyes settling on her son. 'I thought we'd been safe in here. But there are flies. There are always flies.'

Annabella groaned. 'You have the flies in here? People could be being infected as we speak. We need to get rid of the flies both in here and outside. Those dead bodies outside also have to be buried as do any in homes.'

'But if we go near them...'

'Indeed. Now what I need to know is what supplies you have here? And have the healers who died here got anything we can use?'

'I don't know.'

'Well we will find out then.'

'But you are just a...'

'I'm a healer.'

Annabella started organising everyone straight away. She was taken to the Church's kitchen where she started several pans of water to heat. In one she put chopped up lemons, adding honey for taste. Once it was ready she told them that everyone must drink a cup.

'It will kill what causes cholera,' she told them. 'Though it will take a lot of cups before it is killed off in a person's body altogether.'

There were cucumbers outside, growing neglected at the side of the Church. She collected as many leaves from them as she could and stewed them in hot water. She'd also found some dried coconut which she also made a drink from. She mixed the two together once they were ready. A third of a cup of cucumber leaves tea with two thirds of coconut tea.

'Only give this to those that have the symptoms,' she told them. 'Especially if they are very thirsty. It will ease it.'

In a bowl she pounded onions with black peppers with a pestle until they were a puree.

'Give this to any patient who is feeling restless, it will help with thirst and make them feel better.'

There were also guava trees nearby so she'd gone outside and scraped the bark off. She made a decoction with it.

'It will stop the patients being sick and will help calm their stomachs, and stop diarrhoea.'

Lastly she made one other thing, but it wasn't so much to give to the patients but for something else. She steeped mint and basil leaves in hot water. So many pans filled the room that the smell filled it. The flies didn't enter the room. Once cooled she filled as many containers as she could find with it. She gave some of it to Jonathon's mother with instruction that every surface should be washed with it.

And then after making sure that everyone that needed it had had an extra cup of lemon tea, she led them outside with the containers and shovels. She set some men to digging some big holes while she led the others to find all the bodies. And when they found one, they poured the mint and basil liquid over them causing the flies to fly away. And then they started to drag the bodies to the holes. One by one, they were found and taken to the hole. Each corpse had mint and basil liquid poured over them and each time the flies left. In houses they found other dead and sometimes people alive. She sent the dead to the holes and the alive to the Church. Finally the bodies were all in the holes and earth was put on top of them. Nameless people, who would remain so because the circumstances warranted leaving out the niceties of life. When they got back they had more lemon tea.

And so over the next days, they drank liberal amounts of lemon tea. And the other teas for those that were ill. They visited the wells and put lemon juice in them.

Everyone started to get better.

And Maria, Jonathon's mother noticed how her son always watched the girl when they were near and that Annabella was the same as much as she could be.

So on a day when everyone was well again and they had a celebration she stood in front of the whole of the depleted town and issued a toast to her son and the woman who had saved them, who would soon be her daughter in law.

'Mama,' he hissed, feeling embarrassed and more than a bit hopeful. 'What if she doesn't like me?'

'Oh she likes you. You can trust me on that.'

'But...'

'Go to her,' she urged. Pointing to where Annabella was standing looking back at them. 'Pour out your heart to her.'

He walked over to Annabella. 'Mothers hey?'

'Mothers,' she grinned. 'I just received a letter from mine, and my papa too of course. She has said that she's glad that I am safe and that I should marry you. But the thing is you haven't asked me have you?'

'Asked you?' he stammered.

She nodded.

'And how would you respond?'

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. 'How do you think I would react?'

'You'd...' He put his arms around her, pulled her up, swung her around and kissed her back on the lips. 'Will you then? I love you so much, you are so amazing. Please say you will marry me.'

She laughed. 'I would love to be your wife.'

'Yeah,' he shouted. 'She said yes. She said she'd be my wife.'

The crowd cheered but they didn't notice; they were too busy staring in each other's eyes.

'I love you,' he whispered.

'And I love you.'

And right there, she saw her future. Saw how this man would always love her. Saw the children they would have. Girls and boys. And their children's children who would flee the area because of the mountain. They'd go north to America. And in the future there would be born another girl, a girl called Anya.


	21. Anya, 1941AD

Anya, 1941AD

Anya wrapped up her last present and placed it under the family tree. This would be her first Christmas as a registered nurse, able to give her parents some money for her keep. She hugged her knees in front of her, as she thought about how great it would all be that year. She remembered the hard years of the depression, years that had meant not being able to really celebrate the season. No money meant no presents or seasonal food. Times were still pretty hard, she had to make do with clothes brought from a second hands clothes shop, but she had managed to save enough to buy some nice gifts for her family. A knitted doll for her little sister Anna, a nearly new handbag for her mother and a pipe for her father. She was really looking forward to seeing their faces on the day.

But for now there was over two weeks to go, and she'd promised to take her little sister to the park where a skating rink was due to open. She'd managed to find a couple of pairs of skates at a charity shop, one in her size and one in her sister's and ever since she'd given the smaller pair to her for her eighth birthday and told her about the rink she'd been asking if today was the day it opened. When that morning she'd told her that today was the day, she'd almost thrown her breakfast across the kitchen in her joy. But she'd had school to attend first.

But Anya knew she'd be home any time, running in like a hurricane, sure to have told everyone at school about her treat.

Skating round and round with her friends, while Anna spent time with her own, Anya felt even more Christmassy. The skating rink was actually the lake she'd swum in when she was younger. They'd spent days making sure it was safe to be on, that the ice was thick with no thin areas. That it was smooth so skaters wouldn't trip up. Because it was a recession it had all been done for free. No one had charged for their labour and so no one was charged for entry to enter. There were barriers around the ice but that was more for safety than to keep others out. They were only letting so many in at a time, allowing people to skate for a time before they had to leave, either to wait in the queue again or go home.

Bundled up like she was, with scarf, gloves, woolly hat, extra socks and her warmest coat, she didn't mind the thought of waiting for another go. She'd brought a flask of hot chocolate anyway and one of the friends had brought warm chocolate chip cookies.

'Anya,' her sister shouted across the ice. 'Look at what I can do.' She twirled around on the spot and then when she came to rest bent over her breath showing white on the cold night.

'Be careful Anna,' she warned her. 'You know mama will be upset if you do too much.'

Anna was a special child, having survived consumption as a young child she was always more susceptible to illness. She had to be careful not to exert herself too much or she'd have trouble breathing.

'I'm okay Anya,' Anna smiled and skating off chattering with her friends.

Anya knew that they would look after her.

'What are you standing still for,' her friend Enid asked. 'Come on, we haven't got long left until we have to leave.'

'Are you going to queue for another go?' Anya asked the brown haired girl

'I don't know, it's really cold. My fingers are freezing and I think my toes are frozen in my shoes.'

'Oh please,' Anya pleaded. 'We could sing songs as we go around.'

'We could do that anyway,' Enid took her arm and together they started to skate again. They were soon joined by other friends so that in the end there was a line of five girls arm in arm, skating around. A force to behold or at least that was the way the young men watching thought. They didn't know how to approach them. Too scared too really.

Dressed in her white nurse's outfit, a starched cap on her head, she walked towards the ward where she'd been assigned to. She wasn't one of the trainees anymore and didn't have to overly worry about Matron. Just as though she did her job well, the woman would leave her alone. Not like when she'd been training. The Matron on the ward she'd been on had been a dragon. She'd point out the smallest things as errors, if her stockings were not quite straight she'd be told off and if she didn't get the bed pan to a patient in time, well they'd both be in trouble.

But the ward she was assigned to at the moment was lovely. The Matron though strict was fair and always ready with a bit of encouragement or a word of wisdom. Anya wished she could stay there but she knew that the assignment was only temporary. Soon she would be given her more permanent post. She really hoped it was working in the hospital she was in now, and not the one in the next town that she'd heard about. From what she'd heard it was horrible there.

But still, she was happy at the moment. And didn't really want anything to change. Not too much anyway.

She wasn't to get her wish.

After a long shift on the wards, caring for others all night and much of the day, the only thing she was looking forward to when she got home was curling up with a book and having a good long read. But as soon as she entered her home, she was hushed by her father as he was listening to the radio. She'd not even said anything and was about to say so, but when she heard that he was listening to the match between the New York Giants and the Brooklyn Dodgers she knew she be better being quiet.

She was just about to tiptoe out of the room when the commentators' voice was replaced with another one. 'We interrupt this broadcast to bring you this important bulletin from the united press. Flash, Washington. The White house announces Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour.'

'What?' Anya's dad jumped off the settee and ran to the radio. All thoughts of the match were forgotten. 'They've bombed Pearl Harbour?' He twiddled with the control knob but couldn't find any more news.

'But what does it mean?' her mother asked.

'It means...' her father spoke in a grim voice. 'It means that America is probably at war with the Japanese.' He slumped back down on the settee, his head in his hands.

The next morning the wards were full of chatter about what the bombing would mean to America and more importantly what it would mean to each individual within the walls of the hospital.

But whenever they saw a doctor or Matron, any of the higher up staff, they were quieter and got on with their work. Though often they would whisper as they made a bed or wrote up a report.

But in Anya's ward this wasn't true. She was working with children, very sick children and no one wanted to scare them. They had enough troubles already.

She walked down the ward, a mask over her face and an apron over her clothes, passed the children lying in iron lungs that helped them to be able to breathe. They were all asleep now, dreaming of better times when they had laughed and ran. Climbed apple trees and had tea parties with their friend. Lives that now were now changed and would never be as they were.

One of the children was crying, a girl. Anya walked over to her and stroked her hair to calm her. Pressing a button by her head so other nurses would come.

Soon with painkillers she was asleep again.

Anya walked into the side room between the two parts of the ward and took off her mask and apron putting them in the basket to be boil washed. She washed her hands and arms, drying them on a towel and then after checking her hair in the mirror walked into the top end of the ward. The part where the children had started to recover. They slept in normal beds, surrounded by toys that were not allowed in the other part of the ward.

A pair of eyes peeked out from behind a blanket as she walked passed.

'Nurse,' a little girl said.

'Polly you should still be asleep,' Anya frowned at her. 'You might be nearly well but you still need lots of rest.'

'My leg hurts,' Polly said. 'It's been hurting all night, but Nurse Andrews wouldn't let me have any more painkillers.'

Anya picked up the chart at the bottom of the girl's bed. 'I'm sure Nurse Andrew's couldn't give you any. Did you have some last night before you went to sleep?'

Polly nodded her head.

'Yes I can see it in my notes; you had an aspirin last night. So you can have another now.' She put the notes back onto the bottom of the bed. 'Be back in a minute,' she promised.

Anya went to drug cupboard but it was locked so she went to find Matron who was busy talking to a doctor. Anya stood respectfully by the wall until the doctor had left.

'Nurse?' The matron still hadn't learnt her name.

'Polly, the young girl in bed twelve is complaining of pain in her leg. I've looked at her chart and the last time she had any pain relief was last night.'

An eyebrow arched on Matron's face. 'And you are telling me this, why?'

'The drug cupboard is locked.'

'Ah yes, with the news of yesterday things have been a little unorganised around here. I will come immediately.'

Anya followed her at a respectful distance.

When they got to the drug cupboard, Matron turned to her. 'How is Polly doing anyway? She must be close to going home.'

She has a lot of pain in her leg, but hopefully the physiotherapy will take care of a lot of that.'

'Hmmmm, yes let's hope so. I've seen too many patients struck down by this illness who have never walked again.'

'Indeed Matron.' She curtseyed and went into the cupboard to get the aspirin.

She stopped off on the way to Polly's bed to get a glass of water for her. Then she went back to Polly.

'It tastes so horrible,' Polly grimaced as she forced the tablet down.

'I know dear,' Anya put her hand on Polly's arm. 'But it will take the pain away, at least for a while.'

Polly took a deep gulp of the water. 'Have I got physiotherapy this morning?'

Anya nodded her head. 'But you have to have some breakfast first.'

This was how life for Anya was like for the weeks after the bombing of Pearl Harbour. There was lots of talk about it, even more so when war was declared against Japan and then Germany and Italy, but in the main things were just the same.

Some of the local boys were called up but none that Anya knew. The war in Europe or even in Pearl Harbour seemed far removed from her life.

Until...

'Nurses,' Matron called them to her a few days before Christmas. 'You are all to report to the staff canteen for an announcement,' was all she said.

'What do you think is going on?' a nurse asked as they hurried to the canteen.

Anya shrugged her shoulders, she had no idea.

'Welcome ladies,' a voice said as they entered. 'Please be seated.'

Anya looked towards the voice and was shocked to see the top consultant in the hospital was addressing them.

A few more women came in and then the doors were shut behind them.

'Okay,' the consultant stared out at them all. 'I know many of you are really looking forward to the season, and will hopefully have a very nice time with your friends and family but this hospital has been instructed that some of its nurses will be needed to sent to Europe. We don't know if they will be working on the front line with our soldiers and those of the other countries of what is rapidly becoming the Allied Forces, or if they will be based in the UK, caring for soldiers that have been so severely injured they can no longer fight.'

A gasp when throughout the room.

'I know the thought of war is very frightening,' he continued. 'But we are looking for volunteers.'

No one put their hands up because no one wanted to go.

'If there are no volunteers then we will have to resort to another way of deciding who will go and who won't.' He motioned a Matron towards him. She gave him a bucket.

'In this bucket are everyone's names. There are one hundred nurses in total in this hospital; we have been instructed hat we have to send twenty of you. So the first twenty names out of this box will be the ones who are going.'

'But I have my mum I've got to look after,' a girl shouted.

Matron frowned at her.

'Everyone has responsibilities but they also have it to their country. Nearly every able bodied young man is going to be sent to war, you women are a lot luckier than that. I will start pulling out the names.' He put in his hand and pulled out a slip of paper. 'Ruth Taylor,' he said.

The girl who was Ruthie Taylor started to cry. She was only young, a year younger than Anya and hadn't even completed her training yet.

'All those that are not fully nurses will continue their training overseas,' the Matron said.

The consultant put his hand in again, took out a piece of paper and then another and another. In total he took out the rest of the nineteen names and then he started to read them out. 'Edith Bamber, Charlotte Hartley, Rachel Fisher.'

The list seemed to go on and on, accompanied by wails of those who had been chosen. Finally there was only one name to read out. It was Anya's.

New year saw Anya travelling by a coach to another part of America where she would undergo some basic training of what she could expect of her new job and what others would expect of her.

For the most part it seemed very much like what she already knew, though she might be a place that wasn't as safe. She'd already heard tales that they were going to be sent to the front line, that bombs would hit the hospital each day and they would have to amputate legs and carry out operations in near dark and with no sanitary conditions. She hoped they were wrong and she hoped that she wouldn't be stationed in the middle of a war field.

Some of her friends were on the bus, girls she'd grown up with and others that she'd known since she started her training. Having them there really helped with her fears.

They drove into the car park of a large hospital. They scurried out of the coach like frightened rabbits, eyes looking everywhere.

'Come with me,' a nurse said leading the way into a large building. A long corridor with doors off, rooms that would be shared, six girls each room. 'Dinner will be at six sharp,' she said. 'Don't be late.' She swept out of the building.

'I don't like it here,' a girl shuddered. 'I want to be back at home with my mom.'

'Don't we all honey,' another girl said. 'But we are here, and have to make the best of it. Just think of this experience as an adventure. One you can tell your grandkids about.'

'If we ever get to have grandkids,' a girl muttered. 'If we don't get blown to smithereens by a bomb.'

The next few days were filled with tests, both of their nursing abilities and of their temperament. And a week after they had arrived they were given their assignments.

'I'm going to England,' Edith said, waving around a piece of paper joyfully.

'Me too,' another girl smiled happily.

'Well I've been assigned to a field hospital in 'Russia.' The girl who had said it had a look of terror on her face. 'Right on the front line.'

Anya took her hand and squeezed it. 'Me too,' she said.

They were all flown to England within a few days, those stationed in England soon transported to their new hospitals. Anya had to wait though. The hospital where she and others had been assigned to was behind enemy lines at the moment so they were waiting for them to move. It was either wait or be sent down with a parachute.

In the meantime she was working at headquarters. Sometimes nursing, other times running messages. She got to see some of the sights of London. Big Ben, Buckingham Palace. She imagined that the royal family was set beside a window looking out over the city. That the little princesses were pointing her out as she watched.

'They'd invite me in for tea and bread and jam,' she chuckled. 'The King would let me try on his crown.' She looked around feeling a bit anxious that she'd been talking to herself too loudly. If anyone heard her she could be thrown into the Tower. 'They might behead me,' she snorted at the idea and then sighed. She knew that to the royal family she was nothing but a lowly peasant. Not worthy of their notice.

The hospital rattled as bombs fell nearby. Dust fell out of rafters but Anya ignored it as she tried to stop a man's leg bleeding and him bleeding to death. She didn't even flinch when one of the windows blew out; she was too used to the conditions. Having spent the last few months on the front line nursing, Anya was prepared for anything and wasn't prepared to let fear get in the way of helping those that needed it. So she ignored her desire to run to safety and only thought of the man.

The material tied around his leg was bright red, it had started out white but wasn't anymore. The tourniquet had been tied on before he had arrived in the hospital and she didn't want of take it off until she had stopped the bleeding. She put another piece of material over the wound and pressed. 'Where's that doctor?' she screamed.

'I'm a dead un,' the man said weakly. 'You should go and look after someone who has a chance.'

She glanced up at his white face and shook her head. 'You are not going to die,' she said through gritted teeth. 'I am not going to let you die. Do you hear me?'

'Yes nurse,' he whimpered, obviously rather afraid.

'And you mustn't be frightened of me,' she insisted and then gently smiled. 'I'm not an ogre you know.'

The doctor came running it. 'What have we got here?' he asked.

'Leg blown nearly off,' she told him but it was pretty obvious what the problem was. His leg had a gaping hole in it at the knee. His lower leg only hanging on, well she was hanging onto it.

'We'll have to amputate,' the doctor said.

'No, not me leg,' the patient said. 'Please not me leg.'

'There is no choice. It is either you lose your leg or you lose your life. Which one do you pick?' The doctor had almost spat the words out at him.

The young man went even paler, though a few minutes before Anya would have said it was impossible.

'Take me leg.'

'Good choice,' the doctor looked at Anya. 'Has he had a dose of morphine?'

'Yes doctor.'

'How long ago.'

'Before he came in.'

'Okay, give him another dose and then get my surgical implements. I will stop the blood flow while you do that.' He turned to her, and whispered in her ear so that only she and not the patient could hear. 'Give him enough morphine to knock him out. I'm going to have to saw this leg off.'

'The hospital is one fire,' a nurse shouted, wafting smoke that was rolling down the corridor. 'Everyone out quickly.'

'A little bit of decorum,' a nearby doctor said.

The nurse stared at him for a minute and then turned around to run to the next ward to warn them. Not that they needed it, the fire alarm was already screaming.

'Okay nurse,' the doctor looked at Anya. 'We have to evacuate.'

She nodded, as did the other nurses on the ward. Then she went to the nearest bed, a man lying pale within it and started to unlock the breaks so she could push it through the already opening French windows.

'Thank goodness we are on the ground floor,' she grunted as she pushed.

'A little thing like you having to push a great man like me outside,' the man frowned. 'It's not right. I wish I could get out of this bed and help you.'

She lifted her head to glare at him. 'If you dare to put even one foot out of that bed then I will report it to your superior officer,' she warned him. 'You have a head wound, do you want to fall?'

'No miss,' he would have laughed but smoke was already coming under the door and he didn't think a joke warranted the situation.

Some of the men were getting well enough to just be supported outside where they were put in the outside chairs that they often sunned themselves in. Others had been sitting in wheelchairs and were easy to wheel out.

Anya rushed back into the ward; everyone was out except one man. A nurse was desperately hitting one of the brakes on his bed with her shoe.

'It's stuck,' she said, her eyes full of tears and worry.

'Leave me miss,' the man said.

'No one is going to be left behind,' Anya said. 'Even if I have to put you over my shoulder and carry you.'

The doctor ran back through the French windows. 'Why is this man not outside,' he shouted.

'It's the brake,' the nurse whimpered. 'It's stuck. I've been trying to hit it with my shoe but...'

'We will have to get him in a wheelchair,' he looked around. 'But there isn't any.'

'We could use a stretcher,' Anya suggested. She started to cough from the smoke.

'Yes, get a stretcher.'

Unfortunately the only stretcher was kept the other side of the ward and she'd have to go passed through the door to get there. That side was filled with smoke, not having the open windows to dissipate it. As she walked to it, she put a mask over her face, which helped her breathing a bit. Nothing could help her eyes though, that started to water as the smoke stung them. She could hardly see through the smile and the alarm seemed to be muffled in there. She crouched down, crawling on the floor, feeling it with her hands. She started to cough again. The mask wasn't protecting her that much; it wasn't designed to stop smoke getting in anyway. Finally she came to the side of the ward where the stretcher had been put. She grabbed it, dragging it along the ground. She heard crying coming from a bathroom.

What should she do? If she put the stretcher down, she might not find it again but if she didn't help whoever was crying they might die, burnt alive or die from smoke inhalation. She winced as she remembered the photos she'd seen as a training nurse of the lungs of a man who had died in a fire. She knew what she had to do. The man would be more comfortable on a stretcher but it wasn't necessary to save his life, they could always carry him out.

'I'm coming,' she shouted or tried to, but it just made her cough even worse.

She crawled to the bathroom and opened a door. A young man was curled up next to the toilet, an open wound on his head and black marks over his face where smoky tears had fallen over it. His eyes opened as Anya came in and then closed again. She noticed there was fresh blood on the wash basin.

'What are you doing in here?' she asked but got no response. She grabbed his hand, and started to pull him to his feet. That was when she realised that this was the young man whose leg had been sawed off. There was no way he would be able to walk, not even supported by her. Not even with his crutches that were propped up against the wall near the door.

Keeping her hold on him, she slowly turned around so he was behind her and then leaning over, she took his weight on her back and started to walk. Through the door, through the smokier than ever ward, she couldn't crouch down now, she'd never get him out so she continued to walk. Something wet slivered down her neck but she didn't have time to think about what it was. She grunted as she carried him, pushing the bed had been far easier. She stumbles, catching her foot on the stretcher that she'd left.

'What's taking so long?' the doctor ran into the smoke.

'Help me,' she just about managed to say.

'Oh my.' He ran up to her and took the man off her.

She bent down, untangled her foot from the stretcher and dragged it along the floor to the other side of the ward where the man in his bed was still waiting.

The nurse still trying to hit the brake with anything she could find. Her foot, her shoe, the leg of a chair. It still hasn't moved. She ran over when she saw them coming out of the smoke. Anya gave her the stretcher and shut the door behind them, once again cutting off much of the smoke.

The doctor dragged the man outside. A few moments later he came back with a couple of other doctors and together they dragged the man onto the stretcher and carried him out.

The nurse put her arm around Anya's shaking shoulders and helped her out.

Anya ripped off the mask as soon as she got outside, taking in huge gulps of air that made her feel dizzy. She lurched to safety. She sat on the grass far enough away from the hospital building to see a huge went in its roof, flames and smoke pouring out of it.

'Were we bombed?' she asked the doctor who came to check her over.

'I think so,' he replied. 'Let me see your neck, your bleeding.'

'What?' She touched her neck, pulling her fingers away red. 'I'm fine. The blood isn't mine,' was all she could say before she fainted.

She seemed to be drifting in pale fog. Drifting along, something was holding her, she was sure of that but she didn't know what. Then she fell, or it felt a bit like it. In her dreamlike state she couldn't make sense of anything. When she felt the cool arms of a chair under hers, and slats under her body, she opened her eyes. Blinking against the bright light that shone into them, not from the sun but a little torch that a doctor was shining into them.

'What happened?' she slurred, not remembering anything.

'You fainted,' the doctor replied in a matter of fact voice. 'Too much smoke inhalation I think.'

'Smoke?' She tried to search her memories but her brain felt like it was filled with smoke.

He frowned. 'You can't remember?'

She shook her head and coughed.

He stood up and walked over to another doctor who called a nurse to him. She could see them talking. Then he came back.

'Nurse Michaels said she helped you out of the hospital. You sat on the grass and then fainted. She thinks you might have bumped your head which would account for the memory loss.'

Anya nodded her head, all the more now trying to search her brain for the memories. And then they came to her. The fire, the man in his bed, the smoke, the man who she had carried on her back. Coughing. Sitting on the grass and feeling dizzy.'

'Is he okay?' she asked, putting her hand over the doctor's to grip it. 'Is everyone okay?'

'You are remembering?' He shone the light in her eyes again, this time it didn't seem so bright.

'I remember the fire, I found a man in the toilets, and he was injured.'

'Yes, yes, he has a head injury but will be fine.' He pulled a wrapped packet out of his lab coat packet and tore off the paper to reveal a tongue depressor. 'Let me have a look at your throat.'

She opened her mouth and felt the wooden stick press down her tongue.

'That's fine,' he took the stick out and smiled at her. 'You will be just fine.'

She was fine and so was everyone else. Wounds were cleaned and covered. Water was given to those with smoke inhalation as well as medicine for those that were still having trouble breathing. Unfortunately the hospital was not so lucky. It was soon decided that it was too damaged to be used immediately as a hospital again so the patients were sent to other hospitals or sent home and the doctors and nurses were reassigned.

Anya was to accompany some of the men back to England where they would be treated in the hospital she'd been assigned to. The young man she'd rescued from the bathroom amongst them.

She closed her eyes when the plane took off. She'd never really liked flying anyway, found it too scary but after the events that had just happened she was a lot more jittery than normal. She decided that if she couldn't see then she could prated that she wasn't in a plane but the drone of its engines put pay to that. Still the noise was comforting and bit by bit, made her fall asleep.

She was jolted awake when the plane came into land. Bleary eyed she looked around the cabin at the men and women, both doctors and nurses and injured men; they too were blinking and rubbing their eyes.

'Are we back in England?' she asked.

The young man she'd rescued, the one who'd had his leg cut off, she assisting the doctor looked through the small window by his seat. 'Yeah we are back in England,' he smiled and then looked at where his leg was missing. 'Never thought I'd come back here with a limb missing. In fact when I left, I half didn't think I was going to be coming back at all.'

'Are you glad to be back?' she asked.

'I'm not too sure,' was all he said in reply.

She soon found out that she was being assigned to the Southmead Hospital in Bristol to work with injured soldiers again. Not that she minded, she was a nurse and wanted to help, plus she'd long ago realised there was no point in moaning about one's situation. You should just get on with it.

The young man whose life she had saved had also been put in the hospital though not to work obviously but to recover. She soon found out that he was actually from the area, having grown up and gone to school in nearby Patchway. He had a large family that came to see him often, sometimes coming on mass, so that the matron would refuse them all entry. Sometimes he was happy to see them and sometimes not. She liked it when she heard him laughing as his brother told him a silly joke but often he would just sit in silence. He would stare out of the window and sigh.

But soon he was doing well enough to be sent home. His mother made a great fuss of him on that day, making him groan with embarrassment. His father pushed him out in a wheelchair.

A few weeks later she got a letter from his mother.

'Our son Johnny has told us all about you. How you saved his life twice and how much he likes you. We would like you to come for tea on July 19th at six. Really looking forward to meeting you, we have heard so much about you from our son.'

Dutifully she went; she really did want to see the young man again, to see how he was getting on. She had often thought about him since he had gone home, wondering how he was getting on and if he was okay.

She caught the bus to his home in Patchway and took a deep breath before she knocked on his front door.

A woman came to the door. 'Are you Anna?' she asked.

'Anya.'

'Yes, yes, come in won't you. Its freezing out there, come into the warm. You can sit by the fire on the settee next to Johnny.'

Anya smiled and followed the woman.

'Here's Anna,' she said as they walked into their lounge.

'Anya.'

'I've made a veritable feast in your honour,' the woman said, pushing her down into a small space left on the settee. Johnny sat close to her.

She looked up at the woman. 'You shouldn't have gone to any trouble for me.'

'Oh, no trouble.'

'Do you need any help?' She started to rise off the settee.

'No, no, it's all under control.'

Anya sank back onto the settee where Johnny's hand was inches from her legs and there was no room to wriggle away.

She looked at him, his face so close that it made her eyes feel funny. 'How have you been?'

'Our Johnny has been getting on fine, haven't you Johnny?'

Johnny didn't reply. He just stared at the fire as if it was the most mesmerising thing he'd ever seen.

'He's been telling us all about you. Couldn't shut him up. Could we Johnny?'

Still no response.'

'Johnny.' His dad stood up. Walking over to Johnny he shook his shoulder. 'Johnny.'

'What?' Johnny pulled his eyes away from the fire and looked at his father. 'What?'

His father sighed.

'Here we are then,' Johnny's mum walked into the room pushing a trolley. 'Made some lovely soup, made with parsnips that Arthur here has grown himself.'

The man shrugged his shoulders. 'Just digging for Britain,' he said in a gruff voice.

'Didn't like it when he dug up my flowers but the vegetables he grows does come in useful. Now with the rationing and all. Even managed to sell some of it haven't we?'

'Yes mother,' Johnny started to look at the fire again.

Looking flustered at her son's behaviour, the woman continued. 'We will have corned beef mould for dinner, along with some potatoes from the garden and for dinner I've made a lovely prune roly poly. Though I haven't got any custard. Didn't have enough rations coupons for that.'

'I don't like custard anyway.'

'Don't you dear?' The woman looked again at Johnny staring at the fire. She sighed. 'He seems so different now to when he went...'

'He will be,' Anya tried to say gently. 'He's had a lot to contend with, the war, being injured and having his leg amputated and then the fire afterwards. He probably just needs time to think it all over. Though I could always ask the doctor to refer him to someone who can help.'

'I was hoping you could help. You are his sweetheart.'

Anya had just taken a sip of tea when that was said and she immediately started choking.

Johnny turned away from the fire, and started to pat her one the back. 'Are you okay?' he asked.

His mother had left the room again.

'No, I'm not okay. Why does your mother think I'm your sweetheart?'

He frowned. 'Because you are.'

'No I'm not. I'm just a nurse who you know.'

'And fell in love with. I've already been to see the vicar; we are to be married next month.'

She didn't want to hurt his feelings, he already seem exceptionally sad, depressed even, she didn't want to make what he was suffering worse but she knew she had no choice.

'I think you are a great guy,' she started. 'And really brave but you are my patient.'

'And I can be your boy friend too. And then your husband.'

'No. I'm sorry but that isn't' what I want.'

His face screwed up with pain. 'You don't like me because I've only got one leg,' he accused her.

'I like you but not like you want me too. We are never going to be together. I only came today because I was worried about you.'

'Worried about me?' his voice started to rise, quickly going from a raised voice to screaming and screeching.

His mother ran in. 'What's happening?'

'She don't want to marry me Mar,' he said. 'She thinks I'm not a proper man.'

Anya stood up. I think nothing of the sort. I like you, I've told you that, but you were my patient, nothing else.'

'I think you should leave,' his mother said, starting to push her towards the front door.

'I think you are right,' she shrugged off the woman's arms. 'But what I will say before I go is your son needs help. He could do with see a psychologist.'

'You want him to see a shrink? Get out of my house, now, go on, out. I don't know, you Americans are so stuck up. Think you are better than anyone else.'

'I don't.'

The door slammed in Anya's face but she could still hear Johnny screaming.

Anya laughed as she sipped out of a glass of lemonade, the bitterness of the lemons not really sweetened too much by sugar. She looked around the hall, at the polished floor, tables and chairs arranged round it. The stage where a man played the piano. In the year since she'd been in Bristol and two since she'd left America she'd come to love this place. A place where she could forget her job and the bombs hat fell around Bristol. Where she could just have a good time.

She'd been lucky that the hospital had placed her with a civilian family, the daughter of which had become her best friend Joan.

'Come on,' Joan stood up. 'Let's go and dance.'

The man was playing Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by the Andrew's sisters and when another man started playing a trumpet and the crowd in the dance hall started singing the words, she had to join in.

Dancing with an American soldier, she sang. 'He's the boogie-woogie bugle boy of Company B,' she crooned, grinning as the young man boogied in front of her.

'I love this song,' he said. 'They made him blow a bugle for his Uncle Sam.'

They sang together, soon a gap had opened up around them and people were clapping along to the words. She stopped for a moment, feeling embarrassed.

'Keep singing Anya,' Joan shouted.

So she did.

'A-toot a-toot, a-toot diddle-ee-ada-toot,' the young man mimed a trumpet as a real one played in the background.

'He puts the boys to sleep with boogie every night,' she laughed as some of the men around them pretended to snore.

'He's the boogie-woogie bugle boy of Company B,' they finished together to shouts of applause from the audience.

But amidst the noise of people clapping and laughing came another noise. A high whining sound that immediately changed the mood. The room was in salience except for the sound of the air raid warning and the distant sound of bombs falling.

'Air raid,' a man shouted. 'Everyone out. Go to the Temple Meads shelter.'

Thankfully the shelter was very near to the dance hall, just an old shed really. They scurried through its door, out into the dark night, barely able to see in front of their noses because of the blackout. They held hands, she holding Joan's, and an air raid warden led them across the street to the railway station. To the shelter.

They stumbled on the curb and bits of rubbish strewn on the street, and overhead they could hear the drone of an airplane.

'Please don't stop,' Anya said under her breath. 'Please don't drop a bomb on us.'

There was a clutter from high above, and then a whistling like a kettle left on the stove.

Anya ducked her head down and tried to walk faster, dragging the person behind her.

And then there was an explosion. The street lit by its light. Time seemed to go slow. Seconds stretched out as she saw the people nearest the dance hall fall. Soldiers that had stayed to make sure everyone else was out thrown across the street towards them. People at the end of the line dragged away from the person in front, ripped away. Bits of wood, brick and glass flying. Flames. Screams. Smoke. And the drone of the airplane moving away, its job done.

Coming out of a daze, she realized that she needed to run. 'Joan, come on,' she shouted and then realized that her hand was empty. Joan wasn't there anymore. 'Joan, where are you?'

The air raid warden started dragging her towards the station.

'Joan,' she shrieked. 'Joan.'

He bundled her through the door. 'Run girl,' he said pointing to where light was showing in a tunnel. 'Run.'

She ran towards the light. Deep into the tunnel, ignoring the slick algae walls, staying away from the line. She ducked down low when dust fell from the ceiling as another bomb hit nearby.

'Please be alright,' she sobbed. 'Joan, you can't die.'

She came to the light, the guiding line drawing her on, another light, brighter this one, pulling her one. She stumbled, falling to her knees, all the while tears washing her face. Her head throbbed with pain and something was trickling down her neck.

She kept on running, until a pair of hand stopped her. 'We're here,' a man said. 'You're safe.'

She looked around to see pale faces in candle light. The people were all sitting on the floor of the tunnel, sitting on the dirt or on top of coats. People were coming from the direction she'd just come from, dirty people, grimy dust covered people. Gashes on their faces. She scanned them for Joan but there were too many and the dust made them all look the same.

'I should help,' she said, trying to walk forward on wobbly legs. 'I'm a nurse.'

'You need to sit down,' the man said.

She realized then that he still had his hands on her shoulders and she looked up into his face. Dark eyes looked down at her, or at least they looked dark in the half light. He had a lop sided grin, or it might have been a frown. There wasn't really much to smile about at the moment.

'Who are you?' she asked, and then startled at her question, the silliness of her question, she looked at her feet.

'I am a friend,' he said. 'No sit down and let me tend your wound.'

'Wound?' She put her hand to the back of her head, amidst the dust and bits of rubble in her hair, she felt warmth, stickiness. Pain. 'I'll sit down,' she agreed.

He started to pull back her hair, making her wince at the sensation and then cleaned the wound. After that he put a bandage over it.

'Thank you,' she smiled.

'You are welcome,' he returned the smile. 'It's my job after all. I'm a medic. Oh and my name is Tom.'

She awoke to find a blanket had been put over her, a rolled up jacket under her head. For a moment she couldn't remember where she was and then she remembered. 'Joan,' she thought and stood up. Immediately she felt dizzy and put a hand on the wall to steady herself.

'Are you okay Anya?' Tom came running over.

'What time is it?'

'Morning,' he smiled. 'The birds are singing out there, despite the rubble and the stench of smoke, they are still singing, bringing a new day to us.'

'Just hope it is a better day than yesterday,' she muttered to herself and then looked up at her. 'Have you seen someone called Joan?' she asked.

He smiled sadly at her. 'I have seen several people called Joan.'

'Oh.'

'Joan is your friend?'

'Yes, she is. I hope she is okay.'

He nodded his head; he like her had seen how brutal the war was to the human body. 'I will take you home?' He said this as more of a question than a statement.

'I need to get to work. I'm probably late already.'

'No work today,' he said gravely. 'Doctor's orders.'

'But if I don't turn up…' Tears filled her eyes.

'I will tell them what happened.'

She smiled. 'Thank you.'

He looked expectantly at her, she stared back.

'Where do you work?' he whispered.

She blushed. 'Ward nineteen of Southmead Hospital.'

'Ah, I thought I recognised you. I must have seen you there. I work as a registrar there. I will tell matron that you are having the day off.'

She put her hands on her hips. 'Don't you dare, she would kill me.'

'Sweet matron?' he asked innocently. 'I will have her eating out the palm of my hand.'

'Ha! You don't know her very well if you think that is possible.'

'Are but you don't know me.' His eyes twinkled at her. 'Yet.'

He walked her back to her lodgings, coming in with her to make sure she was alright. Joan's mother fussed around her, making her sit down, making her a cup of tea.

And all Anya could do was wince wondering how the kind woman would feel when she realised that Joan was missing.

'Joan will be so glad you are okay,' Enid, Joan's mother said.

Anya hung her head low. 'I'm sorry…'

'She was so worried about you this morning when she got home. Said she couldn't find you, was really worried you were in the rubble of the dance hall. You know quite a few people, mainly soldiers, died last night. Such a waste.'

'It is,' she agreed somberly. But then what Enid had said hit her. 'You spoke to Joan this morning? She's alright? I was so worried about her.'

Enid laughed. 'She's gone to work as normal. A kind airman got her to safety. I think she is quite taken with him.'

'Oh I'm so glad,' tears were dripping down her cheeks and into the tea.

'Now you just drink that,' Enid sternly told her. 'And then it is bed for you. Do I need to stay in the house with her today doctor?'

'No, no. She will be fine. Now I'd better go and see that Matron of yours. Goodbye Anya.'

'Goodbye Tom.'

Enid saw him out and then came back into the room. 'That is a fine man,' she said. 'He'd make a good catch.'

'I don't think he goes fishing,' Anya responded. Now that she knew Joan was okay, she was feeling much happier and in for a bit of a joke.

'Fishing? Oh you!'

Anya just grinned.

'You should have seen it,' Joan told her later that day. 'It was horrible. Body parts everywhere. I even saw a hand trying to claw its way out of the rubble, until it stopped. Poor thing underneath must have run out of air. Or bled to death. My Reg tried to stop me seeing it, when he escorted me out of the shelter but how could I not?'

'Your Reg? You only just met him last night.'

'Okay yes I did but I can tell, we're going to get married.'

Even in the light of what Joan had said about the remains of the dance hall, and those who had died in there, Anya couldn't help laughing. 'You are going to marry him?'

'Yes. I hope.' She looked down at the floor. 'He's asked me to go to the pictures tonight with him. Bet he will want to sit on the back row.' She wriggled her eyebrows. 'I intend to be engaged by the time I get home tonight.'

Anya shook her head and giggled. 'I wish you luck with that.'

Joan plumped her ample brown hair. 'I don't need luck,' she said with a wicked grin.

'So what is this Reg like then?'

'Ooh, he's wonderful. Bright blue eyes, light brown hair, tall, not too skinny or too fat, ever so gentlemanly. He's from Bath, not just the RAF camp but born there. He's perfect, for me anyway. I can imagine our children.'

Anya snorted, she couldn't help it. 'He sounds a dream.'

'Well if he is then I don't ever want to wake up,' Joan grinned and then started to laugh too.

That night Joan went out with her handsome Reg while Anya too weak from her injury stayed at home. Though she did get a visitor.

'I've come to see how you are doing,' Tom said as she walked into the lounge.

'As you can see I am fine. Been getting some sleep. My head doesn't even hurt anymore.'

'I'm glad,' he smiled. 'I…' he stopped talking for a moment and looked at her anxiously. 'I also wanted to ask if you would like to go out sometime.'

'I will probably go to the shops tomorrow. It's my day off and…' She tried to keep a straight face.

'No I mean would you like to come out with me sometime.'

'What? Like on a date?'

'Yes.'

She giggled. 'I would really like that.'

A few days later saw Anya on her first date with Tom. Well it was actually a double date because Jean had invited herself and Reg along. Not that Anya minded. She was just happy to have survived the bombing and hoped that the Germans would stay away from Bristol for a while. She'd been back at work since after her day off, and had often seen Tom walking down the corridors, nurses staring after him. She had giggled when she had thought about how they would have hated her if she had told them she was going out on a date with him. For a time she had considered telling them.

AT the pictures hey sat in the back row. The film they were watching, called Mrs Miniver, was about a middle class woman and Anya was trying to concentrate all her energies on it to avoid seeing the way Joan was all over Reg's face. But then Tom yawned, stretched his arms out and then placed it on the back of her chair.

She looked at him.

'Sorry,' he started to remove his arm.

'Don't,' she whispered, pulling it down over her shoulder so his hand rested on her upper arm.

He smiled. Leaning towards her, he kissed on the cheek.

A few weeks later, and Anya came home to find Joan sobbing her eyes out.

'Reg is dead,' the girl cried. 'Shot down over Germany. His mate told me that he'd seen his plane shot out of the sky, and fall to the ground in a blaze of fire.'

Anya didn't know what to say. 'I'm sorry.'

'His mate said they'd thought he might still be alive, they thought they saw a parachute coming from the plane, but this morning they had news from an operative in Germany who said he had been caught by the Germans and shot.' She started to wail. 'We had so many plans; we were going to have three kids like his mum had. We'd even picked out names and I had started to organise the wedding. He told me not to say until he got permission from higher up, but we were going to be married next month.'

'Oh Joan.'

'I can't believe it.' She rocked backwards and forwards. 'How can it be true? It can't be true, oh he's dead Anya. Reg is dead and I will never see him again.'

Anya put her arm around the girl, what more could she do.

Anya wriggled in the seat of a car. Somehow Tom had managed to get hold of some fuel to run it and was taking her to Oxford for Christmas to meet his family. They were driving through the streets of Banbury, passed an ornate tower with a cross at the top and a statue of a lady riding a horse, heading for Headington.

'It's wonderful isn't it? This town? Do you know the rhyme?'

She shook her head. 'I'm American remember.'

He smiled. 'Then I will tell you it. In fact I will sing it to you.' His hands on the wheel he started to sing. 'Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross to see a fine lady upon a white horse. With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes. She shall have music wherever she goes.'

Anya smiled. 'That's very good, what does it mean?'

'Um, some believe it is about Queen Elizabeth who rode to Banbury to see the cross, though not that one, but the original that was destroyed. The story I've heard though is it is about Lady Katherine Banbury who used to ride a white horse around these parts. She used to wear rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes, so had music wherever she went. The song was supposed to have been written especially for her, and she carried a copy of it everywhere with her.'

'Wow.'

'Maybe someone will write a song about you some day.'

She laughed at that.

The house in Headington was massive. White fronted with a drive up to the front. Four children were playing around the steps that led up to the front door, two more, older ones, could be seen sitting in a room through a large windows.

'You have a large family,' she said.

'What?' He started to laugh. 'I guess I do. My other brother and sister might not be here yet though.'

'How many of you are there?' She counted inside her head. 'Nine.' She stared at him in shock.

He didn't respond because the four children had seen them now and were running towards whether he had parked the car.

'Tommy,' they shouted.

'Hello kids, are you being good?'

A little one tugged at his trousers and stuck her tongue through a gap in her teeth.

'Started losing your baby teeth at last have you Lucy?' He picked her up and started to walk towards the house.

'You're pretty,' a little boy said to her, taking her hand and leading her in the direction Tom had gone.

The house inside was full of polished oak, old fashioned wall paper that was peeling a bit and worn carpet. There was a smell in the air of the old mixed with the spices of cooking and the scent of greenery brought inside and left on a table.

'Mother,' Tom called.

A flustered woman ran into the hallway, tendrils of grey hair hung around her face, flour flew off her and she had a huge smile on her face.

'Tommy's home,' Lucy shouted.

There was the sound of stamping feet coming from a side room and more from upstairs. Five more people appeared.

'My son,' an older man stepped forward.

'Father,' he put his arms around the man and hugged him. Then he embraced his mother and every other member of the family.

'And who is this?' his mother asked about Anya.

He took her hand, swung it. 'This is my girlfriend Anya.'

He introduced her to everyone, to his mother and his father, his brothers and sisters and the four children that had been evacuated from London and billeted to live there.

Anya dipped a sprig of holly into a strong solution of Epsom salts. 'I really thought they were all your brothers and sisters,' she said. 'I felt really sorry for your mum.' She put the holly on the table to dry.

'I'm sorry Anya; I led you on a bit. But your face when you thought they were all...' he stopped talking to laugh, slapping his thighs in his merriment.

'It's not funny,' she glared at him. 'Okay it is a bit, but still...' She picked up some mistletoe and dipped that into the solution. 'Are you sure this will make them sparkle?'

He nodded his head. 'Mother has been decorating at home like this since I was a little boy. One of my earliest memories is putting a piece of holly on the mantelpiece. I remember how it sparkled in the candlelight.'

Anya sighed. 'I miss my home, especially at this time of the year. I hope my family is okay.'

'I'm sure they are and remember the war won't be on forever. Once it is finished you can go back to America.'

'Do you want me to go back?'

'No.'

'Then I won't. Well I might for a visit but not to live. I'll stay in Britain. Just got to find somewhere to live once it is all over. Oxford is nice. I might find lodgings here. Get a job at that John Radcliffe hospital.'

He didn't speak, just reached out and stroke the curve of her cheek.

Christmas morning brought tears to Anya's eyes. In the morning when she woke she thought about the Christmas she had spent with her family growing up, and about the last few when she was missing them. Though she had got some telegrams from her family they were a long way away.

'Anna will be really growing up now,' she whispered to herself trying to imagine her as a twelve year old. Starting to put away her dolls and getting into makeup and even boys.

There was a knock on her door, and after waiting to be told she could come in, Tom's mother came in carrying a tray. On it was a steaming cup of frothy hot chocolate. The woman winked at her. 'Bit of a tradition on Christmas day,' she said. 'We always used to have a cup of cocoa with cream on top.' She shrugged. 'No cream anymore, so couldn't give you that and the cocoa is older than I would have liked. Managed to swop it for some eggs.'

Anya had soon realised that the people in this house were as self sufficient as they could be. They grew their own vegetables, had apple and pear trees in the garden and kept a hen house so they could have eggs and the odd chicken. They brought a piglet each year, fed it on scraps and then sold it at the winter fair, swapping its meat for other luxuries. Though she'd been told that they kept some of the meat for bacon and pork. They even grew their own herbs and spices in a little glassed house.

Anya took the cup of the tray and sipped it. A look of appreciation spread over her face. 'Thank you Mrs Clifford,' she said.

The woman smiled. 'Call me Mary.'

'Mary, thank you, this is lovely.' She took another sip.

'You put a smile on my Tom's face. All the things he has seen during this war, but you gave him hope. I would give you anything I had.'

Anya thought about what she'd seen since that winter two years ago when America had declared war. She frowned slightly. 'It has been a hard time,' she said.

'That it has, and I suspect will get even worse this next year. Oh well,' Mary stood up. 'Enjoy your cocoa. Breakfast will be ready in an hour.' She closed the door on her way out.

Anya got out of bed, and went over to the window. She pulled back the curtain, wincing a bit as sunlight shone, reflected on a layer of snow that had fallen the night before.

The children were already out there, bundled up in warm clothing throwing snowballs at each other. Screaming and shouting with laughter. Then she saw another figure, a large one. Tom. Rolling a snowball around the ground, it getting bigger and bigger. And bigger. He saw her and waved.

Anya drained the last of the cocoa and picked up her clothes she'd taken out of her case the night before. Then picking up her toiletry bag and a towel, she hurried to the door, and headed for the bathroom Tom had shown her the day before. She quickly washed and put on her clothes and then back in her room put on her shoes and a coat and gloves. Then she ran down the stairs, past the kitchen that smelt of baking bread, out the back door to where Tom was still rolling the snowball, but it was bigger now.

'Roll another one,' he shouted.

She gathered up some snow, patted it into a ball and then started patting more snow around it. Then she started rolling it around the ground like Tom was doing to the bigger one. Finally he shouted enough, her fingers were cold, frozen by then but he helped her place her smaller ball on top of his. Then he placed sticks in its sides and an old hat on its head. A scarf around its neck. Lastly he put some coal on its face, for its eyes and mouth.

'Hello Mr. Snowman,' he said, bowing slightly.

'It is lovely to meet you,' she grinned, curtsey and pulling out the legs of her trousers. 'I'm charmed, I'm sure,' she reached out towards one of his twig arms and gently shook the bottom of it.

'Breakfast,' a voice called from the house.

'Come on,' Tom grinned. 'You haven't lived until you have tasted Mother's Christmas breakfast.'

There was more food on the table than Anya had seen before the war had started. Bacon from the pig fried in its own fat. Eggs from the chickens. Freshly baked warm bread. Bread wasn't rationed, so she was used to eating it, but she hadn't had a slice of warm bread for a long time. It had been made with wartime flour, which made the bread look slightly greyish but as it was the only flour that wasn't rationed, she didn't care. There was also a large jug of milk on the table and some butter.

'Eat up,' Mary said, and started to hand warmed plates around the table.

Tom grabbed one, and started to fill it with eggs and bacon, putting a couple of slices on it too, spreading butter thinly over them. And then he gave the plate to Anya. 'Eat,' he said as he poured some milk into a cup and gave that to her too.

'Thank you,' she said, her mouth watering from seeing the food on her plate.

He filled his plate up the same and started to eat.

Picking up her knife and fork, Anya savoured each mouthful, chewing slowly so the egg could intermingle with the bacon in her mouth. She grinned with each mouthful.

After the breakfast dishes were all washed up, Anya helping, they gathered around the tree and started to open presents. She was surprised and very tearful to see that there was a pile just for her. They were wrapped up in old newspaper as there was no wrapping paper around anymore.

Tom placed one in her lap.

She picked it up and turned it over, untying the string that she wound around her hand and put on the floor next to her, she pulled back the newspaper to reveal a silver angel broach, blue stones glinting for eyes. 'It's beautiful,' she sighed.

'It was my grandmother's. She left it to me in her will. Said I should give it to a special young lady. Can't think of anyone more special than you.' He leant over and kissed her.

'Ooooh,' Lucy grimaced in disgust. 'They're doing yucky things.'

Everyone laughed.

'Open your present Lucy,' Mary whispered, putting a squashy present into the girl's hands.

The paper was pulled back, to reveal a doll very like the one Anya had given to her sister two years ago. She felt tears prickling on her eyelids and wiped them away before anyone could notice.

'I'll call her Lucy,' Lucy said.

'You can't call her Lucy,' Tom chortled.

Lucy stuck out her bottom lip. 'Why not?'

'Because it is your name.'

'I will call her Sally then. Sally was my best friend in the entire world when I lived in London.'

Hand in hand, they walked through the countryside. Both Anya and Tom bundled up in warm clothes though whenever they kissed there was enough heat to melt the snow that they trudge through.

'It is so beautiful around here,' she sighed. 'And the snow reminds me off home. The snow is Bristol turns to grey sludge and ice within no time but here...' she breathed in the cold winter air. 'Here it's just pristine.'

'Would you like to live here?'

She shook her head. 'I don't know. I miss my family so much.' She turned her head away as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Tom, who had been pulling something out of his pocket, put it back in and turned her around. He wiped the tears of her cheeks. 'I would like to meet your family one day. When the war is over.'

'When the war is over,' she sighed. 'Will this war ever be over?'

He just squeezed her hand to comfort her. To give her hope and let her know she wasn't alone. His other hand was in his pocket, white fingers gripping a ring box.

Anya hurried through the streets of Bristol heading towards a cafe. She told Joan to meet her there, wanting to cheer the girl up because all she did was mope in her room about her lost love. She was busy thinking of other things that she could do to help her, and didn't see the man until he said hello.

'Johnny?' She didn't know how to respond to him. Last time she'd seen him he had been so strange and his mother had thrown her out of the house for saying she didn't' want to marry him. She tensed herself for whatever he would say.

'Anya, it is so nice to see you again.' He was walking on crutches to get around and had a grin on his face.

'How are you?'

'I'm good. Really good. It is still hard to cope with losing my leg but I think I'm doing okay.'

'I'm glad,' she tried to walk passed him.

'I just wanted to say how sorry I am about the way I treated you.' He grimaced. 'You must have thought I was mad.'

'Not mad. Just a bit depressed. Needing help.'

He nodded his head. 'Got help now. Before I was sent to war I was dating a girl. We were engaged but I broke it off before I even got back to England. Never thought she would want me. I suppose I latched onto you because you are a nurse and would be able to understand what I was going through and help me. But I was wrong. You and me...' He shook his head. 'We weren't ever meant to be together.'

'No.'

'She came around to see me you know. The girl I was engaged too. She doesn't care about me losing my leg, she loves me. We are going to get married.'

Anya smiled. 'I'm glad for you.'

'You should come to the wedding.'

'I don't know, I'm pretty busy.'

'Oh okay, but I will drop off an invitation at the hospital for you. Maybe you will change your mind.'

'Maybe, but I doubt it,' she said truthfully. 'I've got a lot going on at the moment.'

'That's alright. Been great seeing you again. You saved my life, twice; you will always be special to me.'

'I've got to go. I'm meeting someone.'

'A man no doubt. Pretty girl like you. I won't keep you. I've got to meet my girl anyway.'

'Goodbye then.'

'Goodbye.'

Anya sat in the back of a cart they'd manage to catch going to Bath. Even though she'd been in England for years she'd never been there before. Tom had told her all about the city, how the Romans had built Baths there which was what it was named after. And the Abbey that was an outstanding beautiful building. She was really looking forward to going and having a look around.

They travelled slowly because the horse pulling the cart walked slowly. Fuel was harder to come by now and even Tom hadn't managed to get any. The rocking sensation of the cart sent Anya to sleep from which she awoke to Tom's smiling face when they arrived in the centre of the city.

'Are we here?' she yawned.

He nodded. 'I think we will have a look around the city this afternoon. It's nearly lunch time and I had a couple of my friends organised something for you in the park. Are you hungry?'

'Yes.'

He led her through a set of ornate gates into a grassed area. And there surrounded by men in uniforms was a sheet spread over the land, with baskets on it.

'Thanks guys,' Tom said and they left.

Anya looked in one of the baskets. 'Did they cook this?'

He laughed. 'Your friend Joan did. She was in on the secret too. Helped me and then a couple of mates who were heading to bath anyway brought it over this morning.'

'So why couldn't we have ridden with them?' She grumbled half heartedly.

'No room in the car for the two of us. They put the food in the back.

She sat down and he offered her a sandwich which she took and bit into. She looked around the park, enjoying the beauty of nature and the sight of people enjoying it too.

That was when she saw him. A man she recognised. She stood up. 'Be back in a minute tom,' she said and walked towards the man.

Tom frowned and watched her go.

'You,' she stabbed a finger into the man's chest.

'Hello Anya, long time, no see.' He grinned at her.

'But you are dead.'

'I feel fine.'

She stared at him. 'What's going on Reg? Your mate said you were dead. Shot down over Germany.'

He laughed.

'Joan thinks you are dead.'

'Best that way.'

'What?'

'Look I met someone else. Someone really nice. I asked her to marry me. We got married yesterday.'

'You're married? But what about Joan?'

He sighed. 'I didn't want to marry her. She was too pushy and to be quite honest too boring. I want adventure. My wife is from your country. Once this war is over and I've been decommissioned, we're moving over there.' He frowned when he saw how shocked Anya was. 'Look I told my mate to tell Joan I was dead. It was better that way.'

'And easier too?' She shook her head; put her hands on her hips. 'You were too cowardly to tell her you didn't want to marry her weren't you?'

'She would have clung to me. Begged me to change my mind. I couldn't be bothered with all that.'

'And what if I tell her?'

He shrugged. 'I'm married now. What can she do? I don't really care.' He sneered. 'But she will. Just think of how she will react to you telling her that. She'll be devastated. You are better off letting her believe I am dead.'

'I'm not so sure about that. She is already devastated. It might help her to know that you are a lying cheat.'

A young woman ran up to them. 'Oh Reg, there is a wonderful show on today. Can we go to it?'

'Sure honey,' he put his arm around the woman and led her away.

'Who was that you were talking to?' she asked.

'She was just asking directions honey.'

Sadly Anya walked back to Tom and told him about Reg. 'What should I do?' she wailed. 'Do I tell her? Or would it be better if she never knew?'

Tom sighed as he once again left the ring box in his pocket.

Anya knocked on Joan's bedroom door.

'Come in,' a voice sniffed.

She walked in to find Joan staring out of the window.

'Joan,' she said softly, wincing when she saw how red the girl's eyes were.

'Hello Anya,' she smiled a watery smile. 'Just looking at the stars and wonder if one of them is Reg.'

Anya sighed. 'I've got something to tell you. Tom took me to Bath today and...'

'He asked you to marry him.' She didn't say this as a question but as a fact.

'No,' Anya shook her head and for a moment wondered what it would be like being his wife. 'No he didn't. This is something else, someone else. I saw him in Bath.'

'Oh don't say you have gone off Tom. I could never have stopped loving Reg, not if we'd been together a thousand years.' She started to cry.

'Anya put her arm around Joan. 'Look, there is no easy way to say this.' She paused for a moment and then started to blurt out all she knew. 'Reg isn't dead. I saw him today in Bath and he's...'

Joan glared at her. 'I thought you were my friend and you are making up silly stories.'

'It's not a silly story. I saw him, talked to him. He isn't dead. His mate lied.' She continued quickly when she saw hope bloom in Joan's eyes. 'He told his mate to lie. He met someone else, an American nurse.'

'You!' Joan slapped her across the face.

Anya stared at the shaking girl in shock; she put her hand up to where her cheek was starting to burn. 'Not me,' she said through gritted teeth. 'Another nurse. He told his mate to tell you he was dead so he could marry her. He married her yesterday.'

Joan was quiet. She just stood still, not saying a word. Frozen like a statue. But unlike a statue, her lip quivered a bit, and her hands were slowly turning into a fist. And suddenly she sat down on the bed and started to cry. Great racking sobs of someone who had had everything they knew taken away from them.'

'I'm sorry Joan. I didn't really want to tell you but I couldn't let you moon over him like you were. I had to tell you. If I hadn't you might still have been thinking about your lost love in fifty years time.

'I know,' Joan said in a very quiet voice. She turned to look at Anya, winced when she saw the hand shaped mark on her friend's face. 'I'd like to be alone.'

Anya nodded her head and left, closing the door on her way out. Her last sight of Joan was the girl had her head in her hands and she was shaking uncontrollably.

Anya was helping a soldier walk to the toilet when she saw Tom come into the ward. She smiled at him and then got on with her job. When she came back, she settled the relieved solider back into bed and walked over to him.

'You shouldn't be here,' she hissed. 'Matron won't like it.' She could feel the woman's eyes on her back already. Daggers being thrown there.

'I've told you before, Matron is a sweetheart. I had a little chat with her when I came in and though she isn't happy, she's willing to give me a few moments of your time.'

Anya frowned. 'Why do you have to see me now? Why can't it wait until our date tonight?'

'I've being reassigned.'

She gasped. 'Where to?'

He took her hand. 'France. Cherbourg probably. Since D Day, that is where the front line is and they need medics. But I'm not going until the end of the month and who knows what cities and towns our men will have liberated by then. The main thing is I'm going away and,' he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out the ring box. 'I want you to marry me before I go.' He opened the box to show a gold ring, a sparkling paste stone set in the top. 'Please,' he said in a strained voice.

She looked from the ring up to his face and then back at the ring. Then she looked back at him again.

'Put the poor bloke out of his misery,' one of the injured soldiers shouted. 'Before he has a heart attack and ends up in one of these beds.'

Anya stared at Tom. She could see hope in his eyes, mixed with fear, uncertainty, outright terror. She smiled which made his face relax a little. She took the box of him, took the ring out, slipped it on her ring ringer and whispered. 'I would love to be your wife.'

'Is that a yes?'

She nodded. 'Yes,' she said feeling tears threatening to well up.

He threw his arms around her, held her tight, kissed her on the lips and then spun her around. 'We're getting married,' he laughed.

'That's nice,' Matron came over. 'Now can my nurse get back to her work please?'

'Of course.' He turned back to Anya. 'We will talk about its tonight?'

She nodded her head, kissed him and then turned back to her work.

A place like a hospital, especially during a war, is a seed plate for gossip. News that Tom had proposed and Anya had agreed to be his wife soon got around. So much so that by the time Anya had got back to her lodgings that night, Joan had already told her mother. Anya walked in to find the woman, Enid, with her arms in a sink full of soapy water washing a large net curtain.

'Hello love,' she said, pulling the plug out of the sink. The water gurgled down the drain, leaving fizzing bubbles on the material. She turned the cold tap on to rinse all the suds out. 'Can you help me with this?' She plonked the sopping wet net curtain into a bowl and headed for the door.

'Isn't July the wrong time for spring cleaning?' Anya asked, wondering why the curtains were getting washed now when they had only been cleaned in the March of that year.

'Is it?' A sparkle came into Enid's eyes. 'But I'm not going to put these curtains back up.' She gave Anya one end of the net and took the other one herself. Then she stepped away so the space between them was filled with the net. 'Help me squeeze the water out of this love,' she said, turning it one way while Anya turned it the other way.

They draped it over the washing line, spreading it out and putting clothes pegs on it to secure it to the line.

'Once that is dry, I will start cutting,' she mumbled to herself, lost in her thoughts.

'You are going to cut it?' Anya fingered the net curtain, looking at the whirls of silver thread that formed little birds that were scattered all around it, alongside golden thread shaped into flowers. 'You shouldn't cut it, it's too beautiful.'

'And will make a beautiful dress.'

'You are going to make it into a dress?' Anya nodded. 'Joan will look lovely in it. I'm sure it will cheer her up.'

'It's not for Joan silly,' Enid laughed. 'It's for you. For your wedding day.'

'My wedding day?'

'Joan told me that Tom had finally asked you. About time too. Third time lucky hey?'

'Third time?'

'He was going to ask you at Christmas and again the other week when he took you to Bath, but each time you were too upset about something and he wasn't able to. Poor lad had been distraught.'

'He really wanted to ask me those times? Why was I the only one not to know?'

'Talk of the hospital. You must go around with cloth in your ears. Joan told me he's been walking around that hospital talking to himself, practising what to say. His nerves must have finally pushed him to ask you.'

Anya frowned. 'It wasn't nerves, he's being reassigned. They are sending him to France by the end of the month. That's why he asked me. Because it might be our only chance to be together.' She started to cry.

'No crying allowed young lady,' Enid put her arm around Anya's shoulder and gave her a clean hankie out of her pocket. 'That young man of yours will come back fine. You mark my words. The bride can't cry anyway, she's too busy getting everything sorted.'

Anya sniffed.

'Now it is the seventh of August today. Joan said that Tom has already been to the local Church to see the vicar. The first lot of banns will be read out tomorrow. Then they will be read out on the fourteenth and twentieth so you will be able to get married on the twenty first of August which is just over two weeks so we have to get busy making that dress.'

Anya used the hankie to wipe her eyes and once again touched the drying net. 'It is very beautiful,' she said.

'And so are you. I think that once made, that material will look really lovely on you.'

Anya grinned, still sniffing, her face wet with tears but she could feel hope welling inside her as well as fear, hope for the future. 'Thank you,' she took Enid's hands in her own. 'I am really grateful to you.'

A few weeks later saw Anya standing at the front of St. Chad's Church next to Tom. She was wearing the net curtain but now it looked nothing like what you would put at a window. Instead it draped over her, pulled in at the waist showing her flat stomach. The gold and silver threads sparkled in the light pouring through the stained glass windows. She was wearing a pair of dainty slippers that had been Enid's when she was young and had a crown of flowers in her hair. She felt beautiful and could tell by the way Tom was looking at her, he felt the same.

'We are here today,' the vicar said. 'To witness the marriage of Thomas and Anya. To pray for God's blessing on them, to share their joy

And to celebrate their love. Marriage is a gift of God through which husband and wife may know His grace.'

Tom took her hand in his, squeezing it gently.

'First,' the vicar continued. 'I am required to ask anyone present who knows a reason why these persons may not lawfully marry, to declare it now.'

Thankfully no one objected. For a moment Anya thought that Joan was going to but all she did was put her thumb up to her, and then smiled.

The vicar turned to Tom. 'Thomas, will you take Anya to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her,

and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?'

'I will.'

'And Anya, will you take Thomas to be your husband. Will you love him, comfort him, honour and obey him, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?'

For a second Anya thought about what she was doing. Did she truly want to commit her life to this man? But she didn't think about it for anyone to realise she was thinking about it. She just looked in Tom's eyes, smiled and simply said. 'I will.'

The vicar then turned to the congregation. To Tom's family and their friends. 'Will you, the families and friends of Thomas and Anya support and uphold them in their marriage now and in the years to come?'

'We will,' the congregation said.

'Thomas and Anya, I now invite you to join hands and make your vows, in the presence of God and his people.'

'I, Thomas take you Anya to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God's holy law. In the presence of God I make this vow.'

'I, Anya take you Thomas to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God's holy law. In the presence of God I make this vow.'

The vicar looked at Tom's friend standing next to him who quickly passed over the ring.

'Heavenly Father, by your blessing let this ring be to Thomas and Anya a symbol of unending love and faithfulness, to remind them of the vow and covenant which they have made this day through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.'

He passed the ring to Tom who put it onto Anya's finger.

'With this ring, I wed you. With my body I honour you. All that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you, within the love of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.'

The vicar nodded and smiled. 'In the presence of God, and before this congregation, Thomas and Anya have given their consent and made their marriage vows to each other. They have declared their marriage by the joining of hands and by the giving and sharing of a ring. I therefore proclaim that they are husband and wife.' He leant forward and joined Tom's and Anya's hands together. 'Those whom God has joined together let no one put asunder.' He looked at Tom. 'You may kiss the bride.'

Anya felt Tom's arms slip around her back. He pulled her to him and gently kissed her to the rapturous applause of the congregation.

Joan's mother had organised a little party in the Church's hall after the wedding. Tables had been dragged out of storage under the stage and placed along two sides of the hall, with another near the stage. Tom's family had donated a couple of chickens to the affair which had been cooked with stock and vegetables and some grains to make a chicken stew. This was followed by bread pudding and he speeches.

Tom stood at the top table; he smiled down to where Anya was looking up at him. 'Thank you everyone for coming to our wedding. And thank you to everyone who helped with the preparations. To Joan and her family, her mother who made the beautiful dress my bride wears and organised so many details, to my own family who provided this wonderful meal as well as the car, and fuel, that brought Anya here today. I would also like to thank her parents for having such a wonderful daughter and have already sent that message to them in a telegram. Lastly I would like to thank my beautiful Anya for consenting to be my wife, a fact that I will be eternally grateful for.' He bent down and kissed her. 'Thanks Anya,' he whispered in her ear.

Then Tom's best friend stood up. 'What can I say about the groom? I could tell you a funny story, like the time we were in training and he stayed up all night studying for a test only to fall asleep in his porridge in the morning. He spent the whole test with bits of it in his hair. Or what about the time he was spent throwing up in a toilet after drinking too much the night before? My best story is though is when we were at school together in Oxford. We were ten year old boys, up to no good, climbing up trees to nick the apples thinking we could make cider with it. Only thing was when Tom went up, his slipped, the branch broke underneath him, the end cutting through his clothes, but not through him. Hanging up there in the tree. Dangling from a branch. He was pretty near to the ground so if it had broken all the way all he would have got was a couple of bruises but he was a slight. Hair in his eyes, big hole in his pants, red face from screaming and crying like a baby. I was going to help him but then I heard the farmer coming. He tended to whistle everywhere he went so I knew it was him. I ran, and the farmer found our Tom hanging in his tree, a bag of stolen apples on his back. He took him to Tom's father who gave him the walloping of his life but no one ever knew that I was involved so I got no punishment. And now I am too old to be punished.' He grinned.

'You think,' a voice from one of the tables said. 'You're not too old to be put over my lap,' the man warned to much laughing.

Lastly Joan's father stood up. 'I have in my hand a telegram I received the other day from the Bride's parents and they have asked me to read it out to her.' He cleared his throat. 'Our darling Anya, we miss you so much and it is with great sadness that we send this telegram knowing we will miss your wedding. You were our first child, a lovely beautiful and wise girl who we are so proud of. We know that you would only have chosen the best of men for your husband, and from what we have heard about Tom, we are sure that you have chosen wisely. So we bless you both on hits day and hope for good lives for both of you and many children. As hits war drags on, each day seems to take you further away from us, but we promise that once it is over, once it is safe once again to travel then we will be coming to see you and we hope that in future years you will come back to America to see us bringing lovely babies with you. Love Mom and Dad.' Joan's father stopped for a moment, 'the next bit is from your little sister Anna.'

Anya could feel tears of happiness and sadness welling up in her eyes.

'Big sis, I remember the day you gave me my doll Daisy over two years ago. Though I am getting a bit old for dolls now, I'm nearly thirteen, I have put her on my bed and each night before I go to sleep I give her a hug, thinking of hugging you. I miss you so much but Mom says that you are going to be living over there. That made me sad until she said that you would probably start having babies and I would be an aunty. Aunty Anna sounds good doesn't it? So hurry up and have those babies because Dad says that as soon as the war is over we will be coming to England and I expect you to have had a baby by then. Love Anna.'

'To Anya and Tom,' Joan's father raised his glass. 'To having many loving years together and to having lots of babies.'

'Years and lots of babies,' everyone repeated as they banged their glasses together.

Except for talking to Tom about where she would live after they were married and Anya getting herself transferred to the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford so she would be close to her new home with her in laws, she hadn't thought too much ahead to what would happen after the wedding but Tom had. He'd organised a honeymoon for them. They travelled to it on train, her none the wiser about where they were going, though changing trains at Birmingham and Preston were dead giveaways that there holiday would be in the seaside town of Blackpool. He'd booked them to stay for a few days at a little hotel that specialised in cream teas and full English breakfasts. By day they'd walk up and down the golden mile, visit the park or lay on the golden sands soaking up the sunrays. By night they went to shows like Tessie O'Shea or Frank Randle or ones on North Pier. One night they went to the Tower and danced in the Bathroom, paintings of angels looking down from the ceiling at them and the ornate gold painted woodwork.

Two days after their wedding, Tom woke her up early, and told her to get dressed. They caught a bus to a nearby village, arriving at nine. Before they explored the little village, which had been named in the Doomsday Book as Frecheltun, they went into a little cafe called Whittles Bar and ordered eggs and bacon with a side order of fried bread. And of course they asked for tea.

Anya dipped her fried bread into the yoke of her egg and then put it, dripping, to her mouth. 'This is really good,' she grinned. 'I think it is even better than the wonderful food they serve up at the hotel.'

'Hmmmm,' was all Tom replied. He bit into the sandwich he'd made with the bacon, eggs and fried bread. Half of it fell back out but as he was leaning forward it fell on his plate. He chewed contentedly.

'And this little village is really lovely too.' She sighed. 'I feel a million miles away from the war.'

He swallowed his food and smiled. 'A quaint little village is sure to do that. Looking around you can imagine that the people are always happy and nothing bad could ever happen here. They are very lucky in this village to have such as oasis of calm.'

She nodded. Stirring her tea she smiled when she saw a woman dragging a small boy towards a school that was opposite the cafe. He was struggling with each step but his mother still took him in the front door. She came out a few minutes later, minus her child.

Tom had seen that smile and also the mother and child. 'You will be a brilliant mother you know,' he stated.

She blushed and looked down at her egg yolk stretched plate.

'come on, let's have a look around,' Tom said, picking up their plates and taking them to the counter.

Hand in hand, the newly married couple left the cafe to have a look around the village that they imagined was far away from the war.'

They walked around the village, visiting shops, staring in shop windows, admiring flowers in gardens and generally just having a good time. It was very quiet around Freckleton; they didn't hear any cows or too many birds. One thing they did hear though was a crack of thunder and the rain that came soon after. Caught outside they didn't know where to go until they saw a farm nearby. Running through the rain, they banged on the door.

A woman opened it, and took one look at them and another one at the sky and then pulled them in, standing them in front of an open fire.

'You look drenched,' she said, running off to get some towels, which she gave them.

Anya gratefully dried her hair and her clothes as best as she could. She could see steam coming from her as the heat of the fire started to dry her.

'I will get you a nice pot of tea,' the woman said, looking out the window and frowning as lightning lit up the sky. 'Going to be a serious storm today,' she said.

'Doesn't look too good does it?' Anya said.

The woman looked at her. 'American are you? Come a long way for a rainy day in Freckleton.'

'We're on our honeymoon,' Tom said.

'Yes, I thought you might be. Young couple like you. You have that look about you, when you glance at each other, love fills your eyes. I remember when my husband was the same.' She sighed. 'Anyway, you are welcome in my farm, I'm Mrs Harris.' She poured hot water into a tea pot and added tea leaves. Stirring it, she put on the lid and started to fill three cups, using a strainer to get rid of the leaves.

'Thank you,' Anya took a cup from her and sipped it. The flavour of tea burst over her tongue as she swallowed it.

Another crash of thunder but this time the sound seemed to go on, rumbling in the sky. Over the farmhouse and moving on.

They stared at the ceiling and then Tom jumped up. 'That's not thunder,' he said, pulling open the front door.

The rain was torrential now but they could still see an airplane.

'It's flying too low,' he shouted. He ran out the door.

'It's heading for the village,' Mrs Harris screamed, her hand over her mouth in shock. She too ran out of the door, calling for her husband on the way.

Anya saw a little man scuttle out of a barn and head towards the woman. He looked up at the sky and then together they started to run.

And Anya followed them. She banged the front door shut behind her, kicked off her shoes and then started to run in her bare feet, thankful for the first time that she didn't have nylons on. They'd have got in the way.

Tom was some way in front of her, but she could still hear him shouting. 'No, please no. It's going to crash. That plane is going to crash into the village.'

They were a couple of streets away from where they'd had had their breakfast when they heard a loud bang. They kept on running until they saw that the street that the cafe was on was filled with flames and the cafe was in the middle.

Tom put his hands through his hair. 'No,' he shrieked.

Anya didn't know what to say but then she remembered the child whose mother had taken him to school, that was opposite the cafe. 'The children,' she shouted starting to run. She didn't get close to the school, it was too hot.

There was a man, a soldier, crawling away from the cafe. Flames surrounded him and he was injured but he kept on crawling because not to do so would mean death.

Tom ran over to him and dragged him to safety. He quickly examined him and finding nothing too wrong with the man, said that he would probably be okay. Of course he didn't say this to the man. It probably wasn't a good idea because they had no idea if he had internal injuries.

Anya meanwhile stared at the school. Fire was pouring out of its roof and she could hear the screaming of young voices as well as cracking beams. 'We've got to do something.'

Mrs Harris put a gently hand on her arm. 'I don't think there is anything we can do,' she winced as she heard a young girl screaming for her mother.

Other people were arriving in the street now. Men charging forward but beaten back by the flames. Women with tears in their eyes.

A woman tried to run up to the school, but one of the men dragged her back. 'Let me go,' she shrieked. 'My Jimmy is in there.'

When she turned Anya saw it was the woman she had seen that morning taking her son to school, forcing him to go.

'Oh my baby,' she sobbed. 'I should have listened to you today when you said you didn't want to go.'

Anya couldn't watch. She turned away, wiping tears madly from her eyes. A pair of arms caught her, wrapped themselves around her as Tom pulled her to him. Not this time an embrace of desire but of comfort. But there was nothing more he could say.

They pulled out eighteen bodies from the cafe that Anya and Tom had eaten their breakfast in only a short time before. Her stomach still felt full from it making her feel that she should throw up. If they had lingered longer, if the bus had taken longer to get them to the village, they might have been there when the airplane hit. There could have been two more bodies. That thought was shocking enough but when they started pulling out the bodies from the school she really was sick. Forty bodies, two of them teachers but the other thirty eight were the little bodies of four to six year olds. Children that the adults were meant to protect, but hadn't. She knew children died, she was a nurse she was used to that but this time it was different. These children hadn't been killed by enemies but their own people. By an accident.

They didn't find the bodies of the three English crew men that had flown the airplane. They had been burnt up in the flames.

After that they didn't feel like staying in the area. They boarded a train to Oxford early so they could spend some time with family before Tom left. They spent the last two days of their honeymoon with them after which he reported for duty and found out that they would be leaving the next day for Paris that had now been liberated.

So Anya stood on a platform, surrounded by Tom's family as they waved goodbye to him. And just before the train started its journey, she ran up to it, to where he was hanging out of the window waving and kissed him on the lips.

'Make sure you come back,' she said, her eyes blazing with determination.

'I will try,' he said and then kissed her back.

But all too soon the train started moving. Anya waved until she couldn't see it anymore.

'Come on love,' Mary, his mother put her arm around Anya's shoulders. 'He will be alright. I'm sure of it.'

They spent the rest of the summer and autumn picking berries, cultivating vegetables and making jams and preserves. Mary always kept Anya busy, so much so that it was only at night when she was alone in a double bed that she thought too much about Tom.

And then she started to feel sick.

It had been about two months after their wedding that Anya started to feel queasy. First of all she'd just had a heavy sensation in her stomach and then started going off food. By the time she was feeling sick, the sight of potatoes frying was enough to make her head for the toilet. And the thought of bacon was enough to send her there too.

She was pretty sure that she was pregnant, she hadn't had a period since before they'd got married and with sickness on top of that, it made her think she probably was. But it wasn't until she started showing around Christmas that she knew for sure.

Tom was ecstatic. He'd been allowed home for a week and when he saw how large her stomach had become, he nearly fainted. Soon he was rubbing it at every available time and would often be seen his head to Anya's stomach whispering to the baby within.

When Anya started to laugh at this, he would complain and then kiss her, his hand still on her stomach, and say obviously he wasn't paying enough attention to his wife.

The baby kicked, for the first time. They both felt it and stared at each other in wonder.

But all too soon Christmas was over and nineteen forty five had arrived and Tom had to go back to Paris.

The next couple of months Anya spent getting ready for the baby. Her mother in law, Mary, showed her how to knit and the two women would sit in the lounge in the evening with just the radio on quietly in the background and the sound of clanking of knitting needles sounding throughout the room.

Soon Tom's younger sister joined them and Lucy, one of the young children living with the family, would come and sit on the rug watching them knit. Anya would often entertain them all by talking, asking questions about motherhood or telling stories. She told them of her life growing up in America, and of the pool frozen over enough to skate on. Often she would just make up stories or tell them myths from the country of her birth.

'Long ago,' Anya repeated the words her mother had told her many times when she was growing up. 'A peaceful tribe of Indians lived beside a River and many of them were dying. It was believed that the tribe must appease the thunder god, who lived with his two sons in a cave behind a waterfall. At first, the Indians sent canoes laden with fruit, flowers and game over the waterfall, but the dying continued. The Indians then began to sacrifice the most beautiful maiden of the tribe, who was selected once a year during a ceremonial feast. One year, Lelawala, daughter of Chief Eagle Eye was chosen. On the appointed day, Lelawala appeared on the river bank above the waterfall, wearing a white doeskin robe with a wreath of woodland flowers in her hair. She stepped into a white birch bark canoe and plunged over the waterfall to her death. Her father, heartbroken, leaped into his canoe and followed her.'

'That's really mean,' Lucy said.

Anya nodded her head and continued to tell the story. 'The thunder god's two sons caught Lelawala in their arms, and each desired her. She promised to accept the one who told her what evil was killing her people. The younger brother told her of a giant water snake that lay at the bottom of the river. Once a year, the monster snake grew hungry, and at night entered the village and poisoned the water. The snake then devoured the dead. On spirit, Lelawala told her people to destroy the serpent. Indian braves mortally wounded the snake on his next yearly visit to the village. Lelawala returned to the cave of the thunder god, where she now reigns as the Maid of the Mist.'

Lucy jumped up when Anya had finished her tale. 'I'm going to dress up as the maid of the mist,' she said. 'I will get my sister and brothers to play that I am Lela...' she looked at Anya.

'Lelawala.'

'Lelawala,' repeated the girl with a big smile. 'I will be Lelawala, and my sister can be the thunder god and my brothers his two sons.'

Anya grinned as Lucy ran out of the room. She was used to that reaction; most of the tales she had told had been played out afterwards.

In February she received a letter from Joan, inviting her to her wedding. She hadn't heard from the girl for some time. Anya had been busy waddling around as she grew bigger each day while Joan had been too busy going out dancing in Bristol to write. This letter came really out of the blue. She'd not been expecting it.

A few weeks later on a sunny day towards the end of April she was sat on a pew in the Church she'd married Tom in eight months before when the vicar had seen her he had come to talk to her but frowned when he saw the size of her stomach It was enormous

'You are due very soon,' he said in a disgusted voice. 'I don't know, you young people never waiting I know there is a war but that is no excuse.'

'Pardon?' Anya didn't understand what he meant

'You must have been in the family way before you got married.'

'No I wasn't.' She stood up, her extended stomach touching the front of the pew. Her eyes blazed towards the vicar.

'The evidence is before me,' he said smugly, obviously feeling that he was superior to her.

'This baby was conceived on my honeymoon,' she said through gritted teeth. 'Not before.' She sat down and turned her head away from him so he would know that their talk was over.

He tutted and then walked over to the front of the Church.

Joan glided passed, in the net curtain dress; though it had been let out, panels of parachute silk had been added to the skirt and made into flowers to adorn the top of the bodice.

Anya watched as the couple exchanged their vows and felt every so often the eyes of the vicar staring accusingly at her.

At the end he had another dig. 'Ladies and Gentlemen, the bride and groom. And a lovelier and more pure bride I have never seen.'

Joan glowed with happiness at this.

Anya did not. Saying that for half of the service she hadn't been feeling too well. She'd been having some trouble recently with going to the toilet and the hardness of the wooden pew seemed to be making the pain of constipation worse. She had decided that as soon as Joan was married, she would slip into the Church's toilet.

Not that she got the chance. After Joan had passed by with her new husband, Anya had stood up and felt warm liquid running down her legs. It ran into her shoes and puddle onto the floor. For a moment she thought she had wet herself but then her nursing training kicked in. Waddling over to Enid, Joan's mother, she was about to whisper in her ear about her predicament when the first wave of pain washed over her. She clutched one of the pews, her tails digging into the wood.

'Everyone outside for photos,' a woman shouted and nearly everyone in the Church hurried out of the front door before she could get help.

The only person remaining frowned at her when she turned to him. He was about to walk off leaving her alone but then he must have seen the pain echoing in her face as another contraction rocked through her.

'Help me,' she managed to say. 'The baby is coming.'

'And rather too soon,' he said and then went to help her. He led her into his vestry where he sat her down on a settee and went to get help.

'Arrrrrhhhh,' Anya screamed as another pain ripped through her stomach. 'These contractions are coming too quickly,' she gasped trying to count between each pain. She only managed to get to one minute before another one came. 'Help me,' she screamed.

Joan, still in her wedding dress, and Enid, her mother rushed in.

'Anya, are you okay?' Joan asked.

'No, I'm having a baby,' she groaned, perspiration on her forehead.

'Very early isn't it?' the vicar said but Enid shut the door on him. Then she turned to Joan. 'Go back to your husband,' she ordered. 'Birth is messy and that dress of yours will get ruined.'

'I don't care,' Joan said her face nearly as white as her dress at seeing her friend in so much pain.

'Sorry for ruining your wedding,' Anya just about managed to say.

'Hush. It's unimportant. You are all that matters.'

'Right,' Enid said. 'If you are insisting on staying then you need to get changed.'

Joan nodded her head and rushed out of the door. The vicar was still there but Enid once again shut the door in his face before he could say anything.

'Arrrrrhhhhh' Anya shrieked again.

Enid put a cover from a chair over Anya and pulled her skirt up to look between her legs. She helped her get her knickers off. 'You are seven centimetres dilated already,' she said. 'How long have you been getting these contractions?'

'For about half an hour and then at the end of the service, my waters broke.'

Enid nodded her head. 'Okay, you won't be long now.' She looked at Anya over the large mound of her stomach. 'How many months are you?'

'Eight.'

Enid frowned. 'You are rather big for eight months; you look more like you are overdue.'

'Don't you start too. I had enough from that vicar. I wasn't pregnant when I married Tom,' Anya said indignantly.

'I never said you were. I just think you are rather big. There is a chance you could be having twins.'

'Twins?' Anya stared at Enid in shock.

'Twins?' Joan walked through the door, now dressed in normal clothes.

'Twins?' they just caught the vicar mumble before the door was shut.

'I think so,' Enid said. 'But we will soon now.'

Another contraction ripped through her body. 'I need to push,' she shouted.

Joan quickly examined her. 'Fully diluted,' she grinned. 'Very quick, you must have an ancestor looking out for you.'

But Anya didn't answer, she pushed and pushed. Straining with the pain of the contraction, working with her body, she pushed a baby out.

'It's a boy,' Joan picked him up and tied a ribbon around his umbilical cord. 'Get a knife,' she said to Joan.

'My good knifes,' the vicar was heard grumbling through the door before Joan came back with one.

Enid cut the baby's umbilical cord.

And Anya had another contraction.

'Baby number two,' Enid said knowledgeable as she saw the top of a baby's head.

Anya pushed and felt something slip away from her.

Enid picked the blue baby up, it wasn't moving, no crying.

'Is it dead? Joan shrieked.

'Dead?' the vicar was heard saying through the door. 'Oh God please, don't let the baby be dead.'

Enid said nothing. She just put two fingers on the baby's chest and pressed gently and then she put her mouth around the baby's nose and mouth and breathed into its lungs.

Anya watched in terror.

The baby started to cry and its brother joined in too. Enid tied off and cut its umbilical cord. 'It's a girl Anya,' she whispered as she wrapped a blanket that Joan had brought around it and gave it to Anya. Then she passed the other baby, already wrapped up to her too.

Finally they opened the door and the vicar came in. He was the image of contrition. 'I am so sorry my dear,' he said. 'I misjudged you. Even I know that having twins makes a woman a lot bigger and brings them early. Are they okay?'

'They will be just fine,' Enid said. 'They are small for newborns but not too much. '

And at that moment, the bells of the Church started to ring, and not just that Church but every Church in the area.

'Vicar,' a man shouted out. Running into the vestry, he looked shocked at the scene before him but shook his head to clear his mind. 'Vicar, the bells,' he said, grinning. 'The war is over.'

One month later Tom came home to be greeted by his wife, still a new experience for him, and his two children. She had tried to send a letter to him after the end of the war but things were so disorganised that she wasn't sure if he'd got the news or not.

When he saw the children it was obvious that he didn't know but he took it all in his stride and was soon holding the two little babies, one in each arm.

'You are very clever Anya,' he said in awe at his children. 'Thank you,' he started to cry.

And all Anya could do was grin. She had her husband, her children, and her friends. All she was missing was her parents and sister and she knew that they would arrive as soon as it was safe to cross the Atlantic.

Six months after the end of the war, and ten weeks after Japan had surrendered found Anya surrounded by all her family. Husband, children, in laws, close friends, and her parents and sister who had just arrived from America.

And Aunty Anna got to cuddle her niece and nephew.

And Anya, seeing her little sister, being reunited with her, could see an image of what her own little girl would look like in the future, but much more than that, she saw another girl, dressed in strange clothes, stamping on what looked like a uniform. Her daughter's granddaughter, called Alana.


	22. Alana, 2005AD Part One

Alana, 2005 – Headington, Oxford

Alana stamped on her school uniform, glad that she had finished her last exam and would never be a student in that school again. She had thought about burning the uniform but she didn't think her parents would be too happy with her doing that. Not that it was what anyone would expect of her. Not the sensible Alana, who everyone was always saying how clever she was. No, she would never do such a thing.

'Right,' she bit her lip with determination. 'I'm going to do it. Never going to wear these clothes again so what is the point of having them?' She stomped downstairs and into the garden where she pulled the barbeque out. Putting charcoal on it, she lit it with firelighters and then calmly put her school cardigan. A stretch immediately filled the air, hurting her eyes and choking her. She stepped back as the cardigan melted, sending burning bit of it up into the air.

'What are you doing?' her mother shrieked, rushing back into the house and coming out again with a kitchen fire extinguisher. She covered the barbeque with foam until there was just a blackened mass on top of it. 'Are you mad? You could have set the house on fire. Or hurt yourself. What were you thinking?'

'I wanted to burn my uniform so I never had to think of that place again.'

'You wanted to what? You selfish girl.'

Alana shrugged. 'I didn't know it would catch fire like that,' she tried to defend herself.

'Everyone,' she tapped on her daughter's skull. 'And I mean everyone with a brain knows that material, especially artificial fabric like your cardigan is highly flammable. I thought we'd taught you that lesson.'

'Obviously not,' Alana glared back at her mum. I thought it was a good idea. And I did it outside. Could have put it on the gas stove,' she said smugly.

'And instead you used your dad's barbeque, his pride and joy. Who gave you permission to even touch it much less start a fire on it?'

'I'm an adult now, I don't have to ask.'

Her mum's eyes nearly popped out of her head. 'You don't have to ask? You're an adult? Well obviously from the stunt you pulled neither statement are correct. You're grounded.'

'You can't ground me,' Alana shrieked, running passed her mother before the woman could catch her and through the gate to the front of the house.

'Alana, come back here.'

'Make me,' she said as she ran off.

She didn't know where she was going, she just ran, enjoying the freedom of the air rushing through her hair and the knowledge that with each step she took she was further away from her home.

And then she saw a shop. A tattoo parlour. She stared into the window at colourful pictures and knew how she could annoy and upset her mother is one stroke.

'Stupid cow,' she muttered as she opened the door and stepped into the shop. 'Hello,' she called.

'Out in a minute,' a voice called.

Alana looked at the pictures close up, and realised that they were photos of skin, covered with pictures. A Celtic cross, a rose, a baby rabbit.

One especially pulled her attention. Butterflies, flying free. 'I want that,' she decided just as a woman came out of the back.

'Hello, I'm Kim,' she said. 'Do you want a tattoo?'

Alana nodded. 'The butterfly one.'

'How old are you?'

'Eighteen,' she stammered. Though in truth she was sixteen.

'Are you sure?'

She nodded her head.

'Okay, where do you want it?'

'Don't you want ID?' Alana asked now feeling a bit scared.

'Do you want to give it? Look kid, I don't believe you are eighteen. Not even sure if you are sixteen. But the thing is, I don't care. Or I care about is being paid for my work. Have you got any money?'

'I've got some,' she said, thankful she'd put her pocket money in her jean's pocket.

'Show me.'

Alana pulled out a battered ten pound note.

'I will do you a small butterfly on the top of your arm for that,' the tattoo artist said. 'Might even add in a couple of stars too.'

'Okay,' she trembled.

'Give us your money then, and lie down.'

The money was quickly in her woman's pocket and Alana lay on the bed.

The first needle really hurt, she nearly jumped off the bed and ran out of the door, but instead she bit her lip and tried to cope with the pain. Finally it was over and she managed to catch a quick glance of the tattoo before a bandage was put on it.

'It will scab over and hurt for a while,' the woman said. 'That is normal. And if anyone asks, it wasn't me that gave you the tattoo.'

'Okay.'

Alana walked for a while after having the tattoo, still seething about her mother but the pain in her arm soon proved too much for her and she headed home so she could take some paracetamol.

Her father was waiting for her when she got home, her mother next to him. She had hardly got in the house when he was shouting at her.

'Why? Why did you do it?'

She shrugged her shoulders. In truth she had no idea.

He put his arms on her shoulders to shake her and she flinched, biting her lip with pain. 'Ouch,' she said, though she tried to keep the word in.

Her mother looked at her and the place where he had had his hand. Then she ripped up Alana's sleeve to reveal the bandage. 'What's this?'

'It's nothing.'

'It's a tattoo, isn't it?' she accused.

Alana glared at her mother. 'What if it is? What are you going to do about it?'

'You got a tattoo?' her father asked. 'Oh Alana, what have you done to yourself? You silly girl.'

Alana ran to her bedroom, locked the door and through herself onto her bed. 'I hate my life,' she sobbed, punching her pillow.

Alana woke the next morning to a sore arm. She ignored it, just took some paracetamol to take the edge of the pain and then spent the day watching television in her bedroom, not feeling up to going anywhere. Her mother knocked on her door a couple of times but she didn't answer her. But she ate the sandwiches she left at the door as well as having more tablets. By evening she was feeling hot, feverish and her arm was throbbing no matter how many pills she threw down her throat.

And it was swollen, her skin stretched tightly, making it itch. Making her want to tear her arm to smithereens with scratching and not just where the tattoo had been done but all of it.

'Alana,' a voice shouted through the door that evening. 'Alana, are you all right? Let me in.'

'I'm fine dad,' she called out in a half sob.

He rattled the handle of the door. 'You don't sound fine. Alana let me in this instance.'

Sighing she put a cardigan on, even though it was the middle of summer and stifling hot. She padded over to the door, unbolted and opened it.

'Alana, your mother says you have been in here all day,' he said walking into the room and flicking on the light switch.

She winced as the light hit her eyeballs and hurt her head. 'I just felt like having a lazy day,' she said, sitting down on her bed so she wouldn't fall. She hoped he wouldn't see how she had swayed.

'Are you feeling all right?'

She started to nod her head. 'Just feeling a bit hot,' she said. 'And I've got a headache.'

He came over to her and before she could stop him, he felt her forehead. 'You're burning up.' He ran out of the room. 'Alana's really hot. Get me the thermometer love,' he shouted down the stairs to her mum. And then he went back into her bedroom.

By now she as lying on her bed, her eyes shut so she wouldn't see the bright light, though it wasn't working as the light bulb was burning through her eye lids. 'Feel so hot,' she mumbled. She tried to turn over, not realising what she was doing. And then she screamed.

'What is it?' her dad ran over to her.

She turned around, tried to look at him but the pain in her head was too much, though not as much as that in her swollen arm. She felt tears prickling her eyes. 'It hurts daddy,' she managed to say.

'What hurts?' he said as her mother walked into the room.

'What she up to now?' she moaned until she saw her daughter crying with pain on her bed. 'What's wrong with her?'

'I don't know. Give me that thermometer.'

Her mother looked with surprise at her hands and then passed it over.

Her dad put it into her mouth. 'What's a normal temperature?'

'Um, I think it is around thirty seven degrees Celsius.'

He looked at the digital screen. 'Says her temperature is two degree higher than that. Thirty nine degrees Celsius.'

Alana screamed. 'My arm, it hurts.'

Her mother frowned. 'Her arm? The tattoo.'

They gently pulled back Alana's cardigan, and saw how red and enlarged her arm was. The skin was covered in a rash. Her father carefully pulled at the bandage to reveal the butterfly, but it was warped from being swollen and red from the rash. No other colour could be seen besides a bit of black. And the yellow and red streaked pus that was weeping out of it.'

'She needs to see a doctor,' her father said, picking Alana up.

Her mother ran down the stairs ahead of them, grabbing the car keys on the hall table, she opened the front door and ran to the car.

He shut the front door with his foot and gently put Alana into the back seat through the car door that her mother had opened. He sat next to her, resting her head on his lap.

Her mother revved up the engine and reversed out of the driveway. And they headed for the hospital.

By the time they got to the John Radcliffe hospital Alana was unconscious. Her father carried her into accident and emergency, limp in his arms.

'Help,' he shrieked. 'My daughter is unconscious.'

The receptionist immediately called for help and a moment later nurse ran into the triage area with a trolley bed. Gently he helped Alana's father put her on it. The two nurses put her on a bed and started to examine her. 'What happened?'

Alana's father shrugged his shoulders. 'She had a tattoo done on the top of her arm yesterday and it looks like it is infected but surely there must be more to it than that?'

The nurse quickly looked at the tattoo.

Another nurse ran in. 'is she breathing?' she asked taking one look at Alana's grey face.

'Barely.'

They rushed her through some double doors.

'She's in safe hands,' the receptionist said. 'Now if I could take some details.'

Two hours later they were allowed into a side ward Alana had been admitted to. When they saw her she was being respirated and had tubes running from her arms. Her heart beat was also being monitored.

'Oh my poor baby,' her mum said. She looked at the doctor standing next to them. 'What's wrong with her?'

'She's got a skin infection, but that can be treated with every day antibiotics. But the fact that she was unconscious, and still is for the most part and has been complaining of a headache could mean it is something more than a simple infection. Blood has been taken and we are waiting for the tests to come back with the results.'

'What do you think is wrong with her?'

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. 'It's too early to say. She could be suffering from a number of things.'

'Will she die?' Her mother asked.

'Of course she won't die,' her father scoffed. 'Will she doctor?'

The doctor sighed. 'I can't say for sure. But she is very ill. Maybe you should prepare yourself for the worse.'

Alana walked through the garden, her bare toes touching velvety petals and leaves that sent up an aroma more intoxicating than anything she had ever experienced before. The air was full of tiny butterflies, their coloured wings fluttering like mini rainbows. She could hear the whoosh of water nearby and soon came to a waterfall, cascading deep into a pool of gently lapping water. A man rose up out of it, and walked to the shore. Droplets of water fell from his long brown hair and onto his white tunic where they instantly dried. By the time he reached her, he was totally dry.

'My child,' he said taking her hands in his own. 'Long I have waited for the girl who is to be the end of the beginning.'

She shook her head. 'I don't understand what you are on about,' she said. 'Where am I?'

'Ah yes, what you say is true. You don't understand. She who is the one, she will understand. You are not her. But the time is very short. She will come soon.' He looked at her. 'Child, why are you here?'

She shrugged her shoulders. 'I don't even know where here is,' she said. 'Where am I?'

'You are at where the beginning of the beginning started but you cannot stay. You must go back to your life; it is not your time yet. Not for many years. Be gone!' He waved his arms towards her.

In an instant she felt the garden was moving away from her, or she was being torn from it. And then she saw a light that turned into more.

And she opened her eyes to florescent strip lighting.

As soon as she opened her eyes, Alana's father had shouted to the nurses at the night desk. They had run in and started shining torches into her eyes.

'What's happening?' she tried to say, but there was a tube in her mouth and down her throat. She started to choke.

'Don't try to talk,' one of the nurses said. 'I will get the doctor.'

Alana's eyes watered. She didn't like having the tube down her throat. It made her want to gag. Then she felt a needle stick into her harm. It made her want to cry out in shock and pain, but because of the tube, she only made a gagging noise.

The doctor walked in, followed by the nurse who'd gone to get him. 'If she is awake, then the intubation can be removed,' he said.

Alana gagged more as the tube was taken out and tried to twist away.

'Lie still and let us help you,' the doctor told her

Her mouth once again her own and breathing with no assistance, she smacked her lips together, her tongue clicking in her mouth. It tasted like she'd eaten a cat. 'Can I have a drink of water?' she asked and then swallowed painfully when one was brought to her.

She was finally starting to recover from the intubation when she felt a needle being stuck into her unswollen arm. It made her cry out in shock and pain.

'Sorry,' a nurse held a bit of cotton wool to where the needle had gone in. 'But you will need that for the pain.'

'Pain?' The arm she'd had the tattoo done on was still hurting but it was more of a throb than a pain. She shook her head, about to say she wasn't in pain. But then it came. In her head, blinding, whet hot pain, piercing her eyes, prickling her eye lids, ripping through her brain. She could almost feel her head swelling, it felt like a watermelon or a bowling ball.

'You are very ill,' the nurse said as she put a plaster on Alana's arm.

The doctor cleared his throat. 'We have had the blood results back on Alana. She has meningitis.'

'Meningitis?' Alana just about managed to squeak, though her tongue was still sticking to the roof of her mouth.

The doctor looked down at her. 'You don't have to be scared,' he said. 'You are awake and talking. That's a good sign.'

'So it wasn't the tattoo that made her this way?' her father asked. 'Yes she has a bad arm and an infection in it but she would have got ill anyway.'

The doctor shook his head. 'Actually the tattoo could have been the trigger to setting it off. She could have got it from a dirty needle.'

'I have meningitis.' Alana felt drained, not from the news but from the effect that the illness was having on her. She felt like she'd been washed in a machine, banged against its sides and then wrung out later and left to dry in the hot son.

'The antibiotics I started you on last night will help. But you have a long way to go until you are better. '

A lumber puncture and many needles followed each other over the next few weeks. First of all Alana was so ill she just let the doctors and nurses treat her but slowly she had started taking an interest. Then she had asked them what they were doing every time they came to take her Obs, observations of how she was doing. By the time she was ready to go home, still weak but well, she was more than a little interest in what they did.

When she got home she found out that her parents had been busy while she'd been in hospital. She had finally managed to give them details of where she had got the tattoo done and this information had been given over to the police who had arrested the shop owner. Alana had been interviewed not long after she'd come home and soon after her parents had told her that she wasn't the only underage person that had been given a tattoo or piercing. She was one of many, though thankfully no one else had reacted as badly as she had. The case went to court and the woman who had tattooed her was given a hefty fine and ordered to do community service.

But Alana wasn't too interested in that, not by that time, for it was just about the time that her exam results came out and given that she had settled on what career she wanted to do, was hopeful that she would get the grades she needed..

And so on a day in late August she stood in her old school, a beige envelope in her hands.

All around her, fellow students were screaming with delight or crying. Some were messing around and saying that they could now spend their lives on the dole while others said they weren't bothered about their results but they obviously were.

Alana was bothered though. For what she wanted to do, she needed to have good grades though she also knew that if they were not good enough she could do another course so she could meet the entry requirements.

'Are you not going to open that?' a friend asked as she pulled a chair over for Alana to sit down on.

'Don't move the chairs,' a teacher said.

'Alana has only got out of hospital sir,' the girl said. 'She should sit down and rest.'

'You've been in hospital Alana?'

She blushed not wanted to tell him the full reason why she had been ill. Still she nodded her head and mumbled that she'd had meningitis.

The teacher didn't moan after that, he just turned pale. Her friend though had plenty to say, most of it telling Alana to open her results.

Alana carefully pulled back the top of the envelope, peel the flap up she pulled a piece of paper out of it. Her eyes quickly scanned it. And then she smiled. 'I got one A,' she told her friend, two B's, four C's and four D's.' She hugged the paper to her chest.

'Great,' the girl said. 'So you really are coming to train at the hospital?'

Alana nodded her head. 'But I still have an interview to go to. They might not like me. Hopefully though soon I will be training to be a nurse and will be able to help people like the nurses and doctors helped me.'

Alana sat in a room faced by two people sitting on the other side of a table, a man and a woman. She was dressed in a suit that she had borrowed from a friend, white shirt with a black ribbon around the collar, grey below the knee skirt and fitted jacket. Beige tights and black flat shoes. She felt really uncomfortable.

'Alana,' the woman said.

When she had walked in the room and shook the hand of each interviewer, they had insisted on calling her by her first name. She suspected that this was supposed to put her at ease but in reality it just made her more nervous.

'What experience have you got?'

She didn't know what to say, she didn't think she had any experience, not in what mattered to her interviewers anyway. 'I used to work as a newspaper girl,' she said, feeling her legs starting to tremble.

'And nursing?'

She shook her head. 'Though I've been in hospital a lot recently.'

'Yes, we see from our notes. But the experience of a patient is far removed from that of a practitioner.'

The man picked up a piece of paper. 'I see you have the right qualifications for nursing,' he said.

Alana nodded her head.

'But not the experience.'

'No, not the experience,' the man agreed. He leant forward. 'I think you should go away and get some experience. You don't come across as someone very confident.'

'Plus you said in your application form that you wanted to go into nursing after being looked after recently. So it is a very recent decision. How do we know you won't change your mind?' the woman said.

'I won't.'

'But we can't be sure.' He looked at the other two.

'I think it would be best if you did a pre-training course in Nursing. You would learn more of the basics, get more of an idea of nursing is really for you and most importantly get some experience.' The man looked in a drawer and pulled out some papers.

'Okay,' she said but she didn't like the idea.

'You probably need to recover more before you start nursing training anyway. With pre-training you wouldn't go on placement for quite a few months giving you chance to totally recover.'

'Yes,' the woman agreed. 'There are some nasty bugs in hospitals and after you have been so ill, you shouldn't risk catching anything.'

'Here,' the man passed a booklet to her. 'That has information about the pre-training course and an application form.'

Alana took it.

'Go away, do that course,' the woman said. 'Get some experience and then come back in a year if you still want to go into nursing.'

Alana stood up. 'Thank you,' she just about managed to say.

'Good luck,' the man said.

'And hopefully we will see you back here next year,' the woman added.

Alana after a bit of thought had quickly applied for the pre-nursing training course. She was sad that her friend would start training properly as a nurse before her, she would have liked to do it at the same time but she knew that the girl had managed to get the experiences that she hadn't. While her friend had gone to a hospital for the two weeks work experience placement of year ten, Alana had gone to a crisp factory to learn about admin. She'd spent most of the time emptying packets of crisps into her mouth, while her friend had emptied bed pans, had walked around a ward, talked to nurses and doctors. Seen how nursing worked in practise. Alana had been happy to see the back of the crisp factory but her friend had continued to volunteer, working there in the holidays and often on weekends too. So now her friend had shown the interviewers that she would stick the nursing course and Alana had not.

On the first morning her pre-nursing course started, she had got on the bus and paid her fare to the Oxford and Cherwell Valley College. Sitting down she stared out of the window at the houses and trees that seemed to rush pass. The bus stopped and then started again, went around corners nearly throwing her off her seat. She watched as an old lady got on the bus, and immediately jumped up to give up her seat. Then she clung onto a bar as the bus carried on its journey. Finally it stopped outside the college and she got off. Thankfully because she was feeling a bit queasy. Breathing in deep lungfuls of air, she walked up the driveway, one person of many, to the front doors of the college.

Sitting in the large cafeteria at college, Alana picked the sweetcorn out of a tuna mayonnaise sandwiches while talking to her new friends. A radio played nearby and when a song came on, she stood on top of a chair and started singing to it.

'Oh, I'm overdue, Give me some room, I'm comin through. Paid my dues, in the mood, me and the girls gonna shake the room. DJ's spinning (show your hands). Let's get dirrty (that's my jam). I need that, uh, Sweat until my clothes come off.' She wriggled her bottom as she sang.

'Oy,' a security guard nearby shouted. 'Get off that chair or I will throw you out of the cafeteria.' He came storming over.

She quickly jumped down. 'Sorry,' she muttered.

'Health and safety young lady,' he said as if he was quoting from a script. 'No climbing on chairs.'

'She could dance on the table,' a boy said cheekily.

The security guard glared at him. 'No dancing or climbing on chairs or tables. Keep your feet planted firmly on the floor.'

'Sorry,' she said again and then looked at her watch. 'We need to get back to class anyway.' She put her bag on her back and picked up her tray.

'If I see you, or any of you, on the chairs or tables again,' he warned as he watched her take her tray to the bin. 'Then I will report it to your tutors.'

Alana sat in the classroom at a table, paper and pens set out before her. Their tutor was late so she was doodling.

'What's that?' her friend Tasha asked.

Alana shrugged her shoulders. 'Just a drawing, I like doing them.'

'Let me see.'

Alana had drawn a girl with long hair that curled down her back and over the tunic ad leggings she was wearing. Next to her was a dog, or a large wolf and she was standing by the opening of what looked like the entrance to a cave.

'Wow,' Tasha said. 'You are really good.'

Alana shrugged her shoulders. Never used to be any good at drawing. But since I had meningitis I have been. Woke up from a coma and was able to draw but only this girl.'

'You know,' Tasha looked quizzically at her. 'She looks a bit like you.'

'Yeah that is what my father says. He also thinks she looks like my mum when she was younger.'

'And you always draw her with the wolf?'

'Not always. Sometimes I draw her riding a horse, or standing by Stonehenge. Dressed as a nineteen forties' nurse or as a Viking with a berserker helmet on.'

'I would really like to see those.'

'Okay, you could come around my house sometime and I will show you them then. If we decide on a date then I will tell my mum and you can have tea with us.'

'That would be great.'

'Okay ladies and gentlemen,' their tutor said as she walked into the room. 'Today we will start studying anatomy and physiology. Can anyone tell me what anatomy is?'

A girl put her hand up. 'It's the study of the structure of the body.'

'Good,' the tutor smiled. 'And physiology?'

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

'Anyone?'

Alana put her hand up. 'It's the study of the function of the body.'

'Yes, that's right.'

And so the lesson went, and the ones after. Learning about how blood was pumped around the body by the heart, how the lungs filled with air and put air molecules into the bloodstream which went to the blood. She learnt about the bones of the body, the hammer, anvil and stirrup in the inner ear and the clavicle. The liver and the stomach.

Alana walked through town on her way home from college. She and her friend Tasha had decided to get off the bus early, wanting to buy some things and have a general nosy around the shops. Now they were heading for the bus stop that would take them to Alana's home.

'Britain has got it first case of swine flu,' a nearby man shouted, waving a newspaper in his hand. 'It is confirmed that the dead swan found in Fife in Scotland died from the H5N1 avian flu virus.'

Tasha gripped her arm. 'Did you hear that? Bird flu in England. We're all going to die.'

'My dad says it will all blow over. That there is nothing to worry about.'

'But its bird flu, if it mutates with human flu then...'

'If,' Alana smiled. 'But if might not happen.'

'I suppose.'

'Come on,' Alana pulled her along. 'Let's get that bus.'

'Okay, I'm dying to see your drawings.'

Alana piled spaghetti Bolognese onto a slice of garlic bread and bit into it, sauce dribbling down her chin. She grinned and grabbed a serviette and wiped her face.

'Really Alana,' her mother complained. 'Eat it properly.'

'But it's better like this,' Alana stabbed a cherry tomato, from her side plate of salad, onto her fork and popped it into her mouth.

'It might be better, but you were taught table manners. What must your friend think of you? Look how nicely she twirls her spaghetti onto her fork.'

'Tasha do you mind me eating like this?' She grinned at the girl as she picked up a piece of spaghetti and sucked it into her mouth.

'No. You eat like my little sister,' she said and then mumbled so only Alana could hear. 'And like me when I'm at home.'

They ate in silence for awhile; Alana's mother replacing empty plates with bowls filled with frozen yoghurt and diced strawberries. 'So what are you going to do after tea?' she eventually asked.

'I'm going to show Tasha my drawings,' Alana said, scraping out the last of the yoghurt out of her bowl.

'The ones you still haven't let me look at?'

'I guess.'

'Can't you bring them down here,' Tasha suggested. 'I'm sure your mother would like to see them.'

'But...'

'You don't have to show me them if you don't want to.' Alana's mother started to pile the bowls together and carried them towards the kitchen, her head slumped down.

Alana pulled the table cloth of the table and followed them. 'Mum, if you really want to see them, I will bring them down.'

'I would like to see them, I really would.' She put the bowls into the dishwasher and after adding a dishwasher tablet, turned it on.

'I will go and get them then.'

Five minutes later they were sat around the table examining the pencil drawings that were spread out over the table.

'These are really good,' picking up a drawing of a girl wearing animal skins standing by a dying woolly mammoth.

Tasha picked up another one. 'This girl looks like she's from Roman time, look she standing in front of an arena filled with people being eaten by lions.'

Alana's mother took it off Tasha and looked too. 'She's crying, look there are tears falling down her face.'

'I think they are Christians being thrown to the lions,' Alana said quietly.

'Ah yes,' her mother wiped a tear away from her eye. 'It's very realistic.'

'What about this one?' Tasha passed another to Alana. It showed a girl wearing a woven tunic escaping from a volcano, a pyrocrastic flow blotting out a village.

'I call her Icaya, I don't know why. It just seems right.'

'You are really talented,' Tasha said. 'But do you draw anything other than these girls?'

'No. I've tried but it doesn't work. I have to draw this girl first, though she changes each time, not just in what she is wearing but little bits of her appearance.'

'Yes, I can see that.' Her mother picked up another one. 'This one almost looks like a boy. She's wearing boy's clothes and in the crow's nest of a ship. Though you can see hair peeking out under her hat.'

'Yuck, look at the people around this girl. They are covered in boils,' Tasha held it up for them to see.

'Looks like the plague,' Alana's mother said. Though she was a historian, she specialised in the diseases of the past, their symptoms and the treatments they used back then. 'Wouldn't like to have to give first aid to one of them at the museum.'

There were more drawings, a young woman wearing a kirtle and bonnet surrounded by young girls pointing at her in what looked like a court. A girl wearing a rough grey tunic watching her sister sacrificed at Stonehenge. Another girl in chains and manacles.

Alana's mother picked another one up. 'Oh you've drawn my granny,' she said showing the picture of a girl wearing a starched dress, apron and cap helping a man in a hospital bed. 'Did you copy this from a photo?'

'Granny?' Alana scratched her head. 'No. There's a photo?'

'Of course there is, you must have seen it at some time.' She walked towards a flip down desk and started rifling through it. 'Where is that photo box? Ah here it is.' She closed the desk and walked back to the table. Opening it, she started to look through the photos.

'I don't think I've ever seen them before,' Alana stared at the black and white pictures.

'You must have,' her mother said. 'Though they've been up in the loft since we moved to this house. Your father found them the other day. Here, look,' she passed a photo over. It showed a young girl, her hair cut close to her head and curling over her ears.

'She looks just like me.'

'And me when I was younger. You must have seen a photo of her, to get her outfit so right but thinking about it, I don't think you could have. You were two when we moved and at that age there is no way I would have let you touch them. You would have chewed them to bits.'

'So it's a coincidence that I drew her. She smiled and then looked through the other photos.

'Must be,' her mother said.

'Mother,' Alana looked at a photo. Then she turned it around so her mother and friend could see it. It showed her great grandmother wearing a starched dress, apron and cap helping a man in a hospital bed. Exactly the same as her drawing.

Alana walked into the entranceway of the hospital and was immediately hit by the stench of disinfectant that wafted through the air. She was met by her fellow students and a couple of their tutors who were perched on the edges of seats looking nervously around, in the case of the students, or who were standing by a long corridor, looking at their watches and tapping their feet with irritation, the tutors.

'Won't be long now,' one of them said. 'I have been reliable informed that the director of nursing is on her way down to greet us and then we can get you all to your placements within the hospital.

But still they waited.

'Better get your white coats on,' another tutor suggested.

Alana took her jacket off, put it on the back of a chair and then opened her bag and pulled out the white doctor style coat she had brought from a uniform outfitters a few days before. She put it on, pushing up the too long sleeves, and then took her jacket from the chair and stuffed it into her bag.

'Make sure you don't leave your coats flapping to the wind,' the tutor said. 'Do your buttons up or you might get something horrible on your clothes.'

Alana dutifully did her buttons up, and then put her bag by her feet and sat down.

A middle aged woman walked into the waiting area, followed by a group of men and women. She was wearing a grey suit and high heels that they had heard coming before they'd seen her. A tutor walked over to her and shook her hand and then started to talk. The woman nodded her head and took a piece of paper off her.

'Welcome to the John Radcliffe Hospital Ladies and Gentlemen. My name is Mrs Dawson; I am the director of nursing at this hospital.' She paused for a moment and looked around the room. 'The John Radcliffe Hospital was named after Doctor John Radcliffe, an eminent physician of the seventeenth and eighteenth century. Initially the hospital, then called the Radcliffe Infirmary, was not on this site in Headington but in central Oxford. It opened in seventeen seventy, becoming Oxfords first hospital and is still open today, though most of our wards and services have since moved here. It is now owned by the University of Oxford. Nevertheless over the years a number of pioneering moments in medical history have occurred at the hospital. Penicillin was first tested on patients on twenty seventh of January in nineteen forty one here. More recently the first Utah Array, a way to help those who have lost control of their limbs, or other bodily functions, was implanted into a human. This took place on the fourteenth of March in two thousand and two. We pride ourselves on our history and our treatment of our patients as well as our good working conditions for our staff. You students are most welcome in our hospital and I hope that many of you will take the next step in the coming years to train to be nurses here. Now I am going to call out your names one by one, and assign you to your placements.' She put a pair of glasses, which had been hanging around her neck, on and looked at the piece of paper the tutor had given her.

Alana crossed her fingers and hoped that wherever she was sent that she would do well.

'Callie Taylor, ward two,' Mrs Dawson said. 'Lily Guest, ward sixteen, Ryan Brown, ward nineteen, Rachael Smith, Orthopaedics clinic.'

Name after name she read, and Alana's fellow students slowly filtered out, being led to their placements by the men and women who had arrived with the director. Finally she heard her name called and followed a young woman who took her to ward twenty two.

'Hi, my name is Chloe,' she said, a grin on her face. 'I'm in my first year of nursing training and was in your place last year. Though I got ward twelve, which is no way as good as the ward I work on now.'

Alana just listened. She felt very nervous.

'Ward twelve's staff nurse is an ogre,' Chloe whispered. 'She was always shouting.'

'Oh,' was all Alana said, glad that she had not been assigned to that ward.

They came to another corridor, jutting off from the main one. Alana could smell cooking nearby.

'That's where all the dinners get cooked,' Chloe said. 'There's a cafeteria above it. That will be where you have your dinner. Have you brought sandwiches?'

Alana nodded her head.

'Thought you would have,' she grinned. 'Food is wonderful here though, and cheap. I think I will have the pizza and salad today, if there is any left.' She started to walk down the other corridor.

Alana hurried after her. 'Chloe,' she said. 'What are the patients like on the ward?'

'A mixed lot, the main ward has women in it, but we have a few men in the side wards. Ward twenty two is surgical. All our patients are either waiting for an operation or have just had one and are recovering.'

They came to a pair of double doors and Chloe pushed them open. 'Here we are,' she said. 'Welcome to ward twenty two. I will take you to the staff nurse.'

Alana followed Chloe along the ward, pass a windowed side ward where four men lay on hospital beds and to the nurses' station. One nurse was sat behind it, filling in forms, while another was talking on the telephone. Another nurse, wearing a light blue tunic walked towards them, keys jingling in her belt.

'Staff nurse,' Chloe said. 'This is our student, Alana.'

'Thank you nurse,' the woman turned towards Alana. 'I will show you where everything is,' she smiled and started to walk.

Alana hurried after her.

'Ward twenty two is a surgical ward; we have both male and females on it. The men are in side wards and have their own bathrooms, whereas the women are in the main ward.' She walked into one of the side wards. 'Our patients have the very highest standards of care. They are monitored regularly, and helped in any way they need help.'

'Sister,' one of the men waved his hand at her. 'I need to go to the toilet.'

Staff nurse nodded, and walked over to him. 'You have only just been,' she said, helping him up. She looked at Alana. 'Go back to the nurses' station and get nurse Andrews to show you around.'

'Nurse Andrews?'

Staff nurse sighed. 'The young woman that brought you down. No doubt she has introduced herself as Chloe.'

Chloe showed her the rest of the ward, where the toilets were and the sluice. Where to get laundry from and all the other things that was important for her to know. Then Chloe took her into the kitchen and together they made some hot drinks to take around to patients.

'You push and I'll pour,' she said.

By the time they had given the whole ward drinks it was late morning and staff nurse came to find her. 'The dinner trolleys will be down in about an hour,' she said. 'If you go for your dinner now, then you can be back to help serve. Nurse Andrew's will show you where to go.'

Alana grabbed her bag and followed Chloe out of the ward and back down the corridor. When they came to main corridor, they turned right and up some stairs to the top floor. The aroma of coffee and pizza permeated the air at the top, blanketing out the smell of disinfectant that filled every other part of the hospital.

'You've brought your lunch right?' Chloe asked.

'Yes.'

'Okay, go and find a seat and I will be over in a few minutes once I get my pizza.' She grinned as she joined the queue.

Alana sat on the nearest table and pulled a plastic box out of her bag along with a bottle of flavoured water. She put them on the table and opened the box.

Her mother had made her lunch, a tuna salad sandwich, a banana and a piece of carrot cake. She had just started on her second sandwich when Chloe sat down at the table with a plate of pizza, chips and salad. They ate in silence.

'Chloe,' a voice shouted her and a girl sat down the other side of the nurse.

'Hi Vicki, how are you?'

'I'm fine, been showing a pre-nursing student around today.'

'Yeah me too.' She turned to Alana. 'This is my friend Vicki.'

Alana leant around to say hello and then grinned. 'Vicki! How are you?'

'Alana? Is that you?'

'I take it you two know each other?' Chloe asked.

'We were at school together,' Alana laughed. 'We were both going to start nursing training this year but the interviewers wanted me to take this course first and reapply in a year. Which I guess is soon, I'd better think about reapplying.'

'Oh that would be great,' she turned around. 'Tasha, I'm here.'

Alana glanced over and saw her friend. 'You're looking after Tasha, and your friend Chloe is looking after me, if Tasha and I both manage to get on the nursing training next year then we could all help each other. Though as second year students you will have more experience and knowledge.'

'That would be great,' Vicki grinned.

'More than three thousand, five hundred were killed today and thousands injured when a powerful earthquake struck the Indonesian island of Java,' a female newsreader read out that evening.

Alana stared at the television with sadness.

'The quake hit one of the most densely populated places on earth, flattening large swaths of built-up areas. The tremor, which measured 6.2 on the Richter scale, happened at five, fifty four am around fifteen miles south of the city of Yogyakarta. In less than a minute, the roofs of homes caved in, many on top of sleeping inhabitants, and hotels and government buildings collapsed.'

'What's that you're watching?' her mother said as she walked into the room.

'There's been an earthquake in Java. They think that there are loads of people dead.'

'Oh how terrible.' Her mother sat down on the settee and watched the television too.

'Roads and bridges were destroyed, hindering efforts to get taxis and pickup trucks filled with the wounded to hospitals. Electricity and phone lines were cut.'

The television pictures showed injured people, blood running down their heads running around trying to cram themselves into vehicles in an attempt to ferry people to hospital or flee the area.

'I wish I could help,' Alana said half to herself. 'All those poor people.'

Alana sat in the hospital cafeteria again on her second day of placement. She ate her bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich and sipped on her water. 'Did you hear about the earthquake in Java?' she asked Vicki and Tasha who sat either side of her.

'Yeah,' Tasha said. 'It looks horrible out there.'

Alana sighed. 'I wish I could help them,' she repeated her words of the day before. 'But how?'

Vicki shrugged her shoulders. 'I would like to help, but I've just started my training.'

'And we are in the middle of our pre-nursing training,' Tasha added.

Chloe sat down opposite them, her plate filled with lasagne. 'Are you talking about that earthquake? That's all Alana has been able to talk about all day.'

'Those people need help,' Alana said.

'I don't doubt it, but what help could we give them at the moment? We're not even trained.'

A nearby woman turned her head towards them. 'I couldn't help hearing what you are talking about and I agree with Chloe, you would be much more use to them if you are trained. But there is something you can do. A group of nurses and doctors in the hospital volunteer for the Red Cross, me included. When something like the earthquake in Java happened we go over to the disaster to help. I will be flying there in a few days and we intend to take supplies, as much as we can. You might not be able to physically help at the moment but maybe you could help raise funds.'

Alana smiled. 'Yes, that is a good idea and maybe when I finally train and am finished, then maybe I could join the Red Cross volunteers too.'

In the end Alana decided to volunteer for the Red Cross anyway, not to go abroad to help the survivors of the Java earthquake but to help in a project in Headington where volunteers, once trained, gave first aid to the general public after an accident.

So by the time she reapplied for nursing training, she had done two hospital placements, one on ward twenty two and anther on the ear, nose and throat clinic, as well as a weekly stint as a volunteer and sailed through the interview.

She was outfitted with a white nurses' tunic and trousers in August and by the time of her eighteenth birthday was in the first year of nursing training.

Alana's feet pounded the road as she jogged along, one of many involved in the Great South Run in Portsmouth as she raised money for the Red Cross and Bupa. All around her people ran, numbers attached to the front of their clothes. Some dressed in shorts and t-shirts, others in jog suits. Some wore woolly wigs that matched their outlandish outfits, clowns, scarecrows; a man dressed in a pink princess dress.

She'd been training for months, getting up early to run, running after college and more lately the hospital. She'd managed to raise over five hundred's pounds and had even got someone else to sponsor her that morning.

So now, dressed in a purple jogging suit, she ran. Passed HMS Victory in the docks, up to the spinnaker tower and onwards. Step after step taking her nearer to the finishing line of the ten mile run. She could do it, she was sure of that. She was determined to make as much money as she could so she could help people.

Alana eyed the needle with fear and then stuck it into an orange.

'No,' her teacher pulled the needle out. 'You're not supposed to stab it. You need to pretend it is some little old ladies arm, she's scared and will be terrified if you jab at her like that. Gently, ease it in. '

Alana tried again. Having to use needles was one part of nursing she wasn't fond off. First time she'd seen a needle going into someone's arm, she'd nearly fainted, felt woozy and saw pin pricks of light dancing around her head. But she was getting better now.

'Better,' her teacher said after watching the needle slip into the orange. 'Much better, you will be ready to start practice on a real arm soon.'

Alana blinked. She was really not looking forward to practising on others and even more so others practising on her.

After class Alana and Tasha went to the hospital cafeteria to get lunch. They were talking about learning to inject when Chloe and Vicky came over.

'If you're nervous about injections,' Chloe laughed. 'Wait until year two when you have to start attending theatre. I felt awful the first time I watched someone opened up.' She grinned. 'After that injections are nothing.'

'But the teacher said we would start practising on real arms soon, on each other,' Tasha said, her face looking rather green. 'It's not like you are going to have to practise operating on each other.'

'No, but we had to practise first aid,' Vicki grinned. 'Quite a few of the student nurses fainted and so did one of the trainee doctors who were there too.'

'Really?' Alana sniggered. 'Which one?'

'Oh I couldn't possibly tell you,' Vicki smirked. 'But he's over there eating his lunch as we speak.' She giggled.

Alana looked over. There were three doctors sat at a table.

'It's the blond haired one,' Chloe whispered.

'Ooh, he's cute.'

'Yes he is,' Vicki sighed wistfully. 'I was going to give him the kiss of life but then he came round.'

'You were?'

She nodded her head. 'I'll get him next time,' she grinned wickedly. 'Those lips are mine.'

Alana looked at the rail of dresses, pushing them to one side until she found her size. She walked to a nearby mirror in the shop and held it up against herself. And sighed. It was too short. She looked around to see if there were any leggings, and saw a pile on a table by the back wall. Putting the dress in her basket, she walked over and started to sift through them.

'Nothing,' she moaned. 'They're horrible.' She put the dress on a rail and left the shop.

It has started to rain, a drizzle from a grey sky. She pulled her hood over her head and hurried along the road.

Shop after shop, but she didn't find anything she liked and then she started to need the toilet. She knew there were some in the shopping centre so she turned in that direction and climbed the stairs. She walked through the door with a woman symbol on it, passed the mirrors and sinks to the cubicles of toilets. Grateful there was no one queuing; she slipped into one to empty her bladder. That was when she heard the noise, groans from the next cubicle. She tried to ignore it, feeling embarrassed and angry that she had obviously heard something she didn't want to but then the noises got louder.

She left her cubicle and went to a sink to wash her hands and drying them in the hand dryer.

The woman was still groaning and Alana knew she couldn't ignore it.

'Hello,' she called through the door. 'Are you all right?'

'Help,' the woman gasped. 'Me.'

'What's wrong?' She pushed on the cubicle door that mercifully wasn't locked.

It opened to reveal a woman crouched on her knees on the floor, straining, groaning. She shrieked when she saw Alana. 'Help me,' she hissed, her face screwing up with pain. 'Baby.'

'You're having a baby? Now?'

The woman didn't answer; she just screamed and clutched at her stomach.

'You can't have a baby there,' Alana said. 'We need to get you somewhere nicer, and cleaner.'

'I don't care,' the woman grabbed the front of Alana's coat. 'Just get this baby out of me.' She screamed.

As gently but forcefully as she could she helped the woman into a standing position and then supporting her weight took her out of the toilet to the little cloakroom where the toilets started. It was carpeted and a lot cleaner, though she knew that it wasn't a place where the woman could labour. It was too open to the public. She sat her down on a bench, and told her she would be back soon.

Then she hurried out, pulling her mobile out of her pocket. Trying to get a signal but she couldn't. 'Help,' she screamed.

A girl was collect plates nearby, tidying off tables in the cafe. She looked over at Alana. 'Are you all right?' she ran over.

'There's a woman in labour in the toilets and she needs an ambulance.' Alana looked once again for a signal but deep in the shopping centre, there wasn't one. 'Do you work here?'

'Yes.'

'Get your boss; tell them there is a woman about to have a baby in the toilets. She needs somewhere private to wait.'

'A baby?' the girl's face lit up with excitement. 'How exciting.'

'A bit too much,' Alana frowned. 'I think there is a chance the baby might make its appearance here.'

'Oh.'

'I'm going back to her. Just get your boss to come to the toilets and don't forget to phone an ambulance.'

Alana rushed back into the toilet to find the woman on the carpet, crouching on all fours, groaning and straining.

'I need to check how far along you are,' Alana said. 'I'm a student nurse,' she added to give the woman a bit of comfort that she didn't feel herself. She helped the woman stand again, but then a man ran into the women's toilet.

'Is she in labour?' he shouted. 'No, no,' he put his hands on his head. 'Not here, no.'

'She needs to go somewhere more private. Have you got a private room, an office, your office?'

'My office?' His face went pale. 'But my carpets are white.'

The woman's legs were suddenly covered as her waters broke.

Alana shook her head. 'Would you rather she delivered her baby in the toilets?' she put her hands on her hips.

'Ah.' He sighed. 'No, of course not. I will help you take her there.'

Both Alana and the man supported the woman as they took her to his office.

'I need to push,' the woman shouted, her legs giving way underneath her.

'Not yet,' Alana said. 'Pant, you need to pant.' She breathed in sharply and out again so the woman could understand despite her pain fuddled brain.

'I can't,' her face was bright red. 'I have to push.'

'Pant or do you want your baby to be born in a corridor? It would hit its head on the floor.'

'We're nearly there,' the man said. 'Look there's my office.' He opened the door and helped Alana take the woman in, sitting her down on a couch.

She immediately crouched on all fours again and started rocking her body back and forth. 'It hurts,' she screamed.

'I'll see where that ambulance is,' the man said, almost tripping as he ran for the door in fright.

'I could do with help here.'

'Oh yes, of course,' he said, not looking back. 'I will send one of my staff in. And he shut the door.

'I need to push,' the woman growled and then started to shriek as another contraction hit her.

'I know,' Alana calmly said despite the fear and worry that was going on inside her. She had never delivered a baby before, much less been at a birth. All she knew came out of a book. She sighed. 'I need to examine you,' she repeated from earlier.

The woman still had her knickers on, so Alana helped her take the sodden clothes off. Then she used a sanitising wipe that she had in her bag to make sure that her hands were clean. She looked between the woman's legs. 'I can see the baby's head,' she told her. 'I knew you were from how close your contractions were, but the baby crowning means you really are. You are about to become a mother.'

'Aaaarrrrhhhhh,' the mother yelled, clutching her stomach again. 'I need to push.'

A moment's doubt passed Alana's mind, was the woman fully dilated? But she could see that the baby wasn't going to wait any longer and the woman looked like she was ten centimetres dilated and she couldn't see the cervical lip. She nodded her head. 'Okay, you can push when you have your next contraction.'

Someone knocked on the door and a head poked around. 'You have a woman in labour?' the woman asked.

'Yes, she's about to give birth. I'm training to be a nurse but I have never been at a birth before.'

'Of course you haven't,' the woman bustled in, a bag on her shoulder. 'But I have.' She grinned. 'Was when I was birthing my own children but after having four, I've got plenty of experience.' She shut the door behind her and walked over to the woman. 'Now I'm Tracy, I and...' she frowned and looked at Alana.

'Alana.'

'Alana and I are going to help you birth this baby. There's no reason to be scared, it is a perfectly natural event.' She patted the woman's hand. 'Now tell us, what is your name and when is the baby due?'

Alana frowned. How could she have forgotten to ask the woman's name, and as to when the baby was due, she'd not even thought to ask, and it was important knowledge.'

'My name is Rose, and the baby is due tomorrow. I came into town to get some last minutes things for her, but then needed the toilet.' She grimaced, clenching her teeth.

'Is she fully dilated?' Tracy asked.

'Yes and the baby's head is crowning. She's ready to push.'

'Rose love, did you hear that? You can push. Push darling, you can do it, push like you are having a poo.'

Alana reddened a bit at this word, and then realised Tracy could have used a much more cruder word.

'Aaaarrrrgggghhhh,' Rose shrieked, herface reddening too but not through embarrassment but as she bore down. Then she started to pant tiredly as the contraction finished.

'All finished?' Tracy asked. 'Do you want to change positions before the next contraction? Half hanging off a settee can't feel very good.'

'Yes, please,' Rose said. 'Can I get back on my knees?'

'You can do whatever you want darling. Let's help you up, and we will put some cushions on the floor so you are more comfortable.'

They helped Rose stand up and then quickly put the cushions on top of the carpet. Tracy look something white out of her bag and draped it over. 'Tablecloth,' she winked. 'Just washed and ironed. We need to keep this birth as clean as possible. Got another one in my bag to wrap the baby up if she's born before that ambulance arrives.'

Rose had just crouched down when she started to scream again. 'It hurts,' she whimpered.

'Push against the pain,' Alana said, though she had only read this advise, she didn't know if it really worked.

'Yes, push against the pain,' Tracy agreed.

'Aaaarrrrggggghhhhh,' Rose shrieked.

Alana watched as the baby's head pushed against Rose, and then popped out. 'The baby's head is out.'

'Rose dear, you need to pant now,' Tracy told her. 'Pant.' She started to take in short breaths and exhaled them quickly.

Rose did the same.

Alana quickly checked to see if the baby's umbilical cord was around its neck and smiled. 'Next contraction and the baby should be here.'

Half a minute later, Rose was screaming again, she pushed and the baby slivered out into Alana's arms. She wrapped it in the other tablecloth, thankful when it started to cry and after Rose had turned around, lying on the cushions now, she placed it into her arms, umbilical cord still attached.

'What is it?' Rose asked. 'I had a scan and they thought it was a girl but...'

'Have a look,' Tracy smiled.

They watched as Rose pulled back the tablecloth.

'It is a girl.' Rose grinned. 'I'm going to call her Olivia.'

Alana put the tablecloth that Rose was lying on, over her body; thankful it was a big one.

'I will go and see where that ambulance is,' Tracy said and stood up. She opened the door to reveal a female paramedic about to knock on it. 'The mother and baby are in here,' she said.

The paramedic balked. 'The baby has arrived?'

'Yes,' Alana called from where she was crouching on her haunches. 'But the placenta hasn't and I haven't cut the umbilical cord as I didn't have anything sterile to cut it with.

The paramedic nodded and crouched next to Rose. 'Are you ready to come to hospital?' she said gently.

Rose nodded her head, and stared at her baby's face with wonder.

A male paramedic came in with a wheelchair. He looked around the room. 'Do I know you?' he asked Alana.

'Maybe, I'm training to be a nurse at the John Radcliffe. I'm in my first year.'

'And now have plenty of hands on experience,' he chortled.

Alana grinned. 'Maybe I will be a midwife,' she thought as she watched them help Rose sit in the wheelchair and wheeled her and her baby away.

Alana straightened her nursing tunic and walked onto the ward where she was due to have her placement, She had been really looking forward to getting more experience but now the time was here, she was feeling a bit nervous. She walked over to the nurses' desk to introduce herself. There was no one there, but a red light was blinking and she could hear alarms from a side room.

'Nurse, nurse,' a man shouted.

She went over to the patient.

'What's going on nurse?' he asked, pointing to where everyone was congregated.

'I have no idea,' she shook her head. 'Now is there anything I can do for you?'

'I haven't had my bed bath yet,' he said but he had a twinkle in his eyes.

'I will make sure that I tell staff nurse,' she grinned.

Now she was nearer she could just about see though the curtains that surrounded a bed. She could see the nurses, and a doctor and a man lying still on the bed, his chest not moving up and down. The doctor looked at his watch. She could see his lips moving. A nurse pulled a sheet over the man's face.

Alana sighed. She hadn't expected to arrive for her first placement to see a man die.

One by one, the nurses and then the doctor filed out. When Alana introduced herself, they shook her hand and said hello, but mostly there was a subdued atmosphere in the ward that day.

The rest of her placement went better; she emptied bed pans, watched medical procedures, assisted the nurses and in the end had a very productive time.

Satin sheen, purple, fitted top, not too low cut, flared skirt that finished at her knees. Alana looked at her reflection in the mirror. She smoothed down the crinkles in the front of her dress, straightened the top and patted her hair that was a cascade of blonde curls. Finally she put some pink lipstick on, put on her one inch heel shoes and grabbed her bag. She kissed her parents goodbye, she wouldn't be back that night, and picked up her overnight bag, grabbed her coat and then went outside to where a taxi was waiting for her.

She arrived at a large house, festooned with paper decorations. She could hear music booming out of the windows. She paid the taxi driver and went in.

'Alana,' Chloe squealed. 'You came.' She handed her a glass of something fizzy.

'Hello Chloe,' she grinned. 'Where can I put my things?' she twisted so the girl could see her overnight bag.

'You can leave it in my room,' Chloe pointed up the stairs. First floor, it's the only room that's not locked. Well apart from the toilet,' she giggled.

Alana nodded, and started up the stairs, she could see into the lounge, people dancing to the Shakira's song, Hips don't lie. They were joined by a very buoyant Chloe. AT the top of the stairs was a wide landing with a set of stairs leading off to another floor. She tried all the doors, six of them and finally found the one that was open. She switched the light on, put her bag by the far side of the double bed, undid it and put her handbag inside it, locked it and put the key into her bra. She shuddered as the cold metal touched her skin. Then she put her coat over the bag and left the room, switching the light off on the way.

It was party time.

Alana drank coke, making sure that no one put anything in it. She didn't know everyone at Chloe's party so she knew she had to be careful. She'd danced for some time but now was sitting on an armchair trying to ignore her friend. Vicki had made her move on the doctor she fancied and was now draped all over him. She was grinning madly.

Alana sighed and stood up. She was hot, too much so. She went towards the French doors, stepped outside and then in again, to avoid the people making out. She walked pass the dancers, through the hallway and out of the back door. Standing on the back step, she breathed in the fresh air. She sat down on a garden bench. It was here they found her the next morning, fast asleep and drooling. Someone had drawn a moustache and glasses on her face.

Alana's mother put some brochures on the table while they ate breakfast.

Idly, between scoops of soggy cornflakes, Alana picked one up. 'Are you going on holiday?'

'We are,' her father smiled. 'You too. You too Alana. You have some time off during the summer holidays and your mother and I thought it would be nice to have a holiday with you. Probably our last chance, I'm sure you will be moving out soon.'

Alana grinned. 'Where are we going?'

Alana's mother took the brochure out of her hand, and opened it. She pointed at a picture of a hotel. 'The Chateau De Monrecour,' she read. Is located on the edge of the Barade Domanial Forest in the Périgord Noir region of France and just fourteen kilometres from the medieval town of Sarlat and its cathedral, whose belfry dates from the 9th century.'

Her father grabbed the brochure from her mother. 'More importantly,' he grinned. 'The rooms are en suite and equipped with a TV and free Wi-FI in many of the rooms for guests' convenience. And breakfast is served in the chateau's ballroom which is decorated with tapestries and features a large stone fireplace.'

Alana grabbed it and continued to read. 'The chateau has a swimming pool which is open during the summer.' She stared at a photo of the pool and started to imagine swimming in it under a warm sun.

'So what do you think? Do you want to go?' Both of her parents looked hopefully at her.

'Do I want to go?' she frowned. 'Let's think; wonderful summer sunshine against miserable English rain.' She grinned. 'France wins. I'd love to go.'

Alana lay on a towel by the side of the pool. The sun, hot even though it was still early morning, was slowly turning her pale skin a lovely shade of light brown. She picked up a glass of ice cold guava juice and sucked through the straw. 'Aaah,' she sighed, putting the glass back down. 'This is the life.'

A shadow moved over her, and Alana opened her eyes to see her mother standing, hands on hips, staring down at her.

'Are you going to spend another day just lying in the sun?' she asked. 'Your father and I are going on the tour group to see the Chateau de Commarque. I hear it is amazing. I'm sure you would love it.'

'Can't I stay here? I don't really want to visit any old crusty chateau,' she stuck out a petulant lip.

'Fine,' her mother sighed. 'Stay here; lay in the sun all day.' She shook her head. 'I don't know, you young people, no interest in history or culture.'

'Mother, I work hard all the time training to be a nurse. Can't you allow me to just have a rest?'

'Okay,' she bent down and enveloped Alana in a cloud of perfume as she kissed her. 'We will be back later.'

Alana half heartedly waved goodbye and closed her eyes. Luxuriating in the feel of the sun ray of her bikini clad body.

She felt someone standing over her again. 'Mother,' she moaned as she opened her eyes.

'I've never been called someone's mother before,' a male voice chortled.

Alana peered up to see a young man smiling down at her. He had a deep tan and unruly black hair. His eyes shone bright blue.

'Oh hello,' she sat up and grinned. 'Who are you?'

'My name is Philippe, and I will be your waiter today,' he said in English with a French accent.

'Really?' She smoothed her hand over her blonde hair and smiled up at him. She wouldn't mind having someone running around doing jobs for her if he looked like him.

'Nah, not really.' He sat by her legs. 'My name is really Ryan and I'm English, on holiday here but I'll get you a drink if you are thirsty. Or rub sun lotion on your back.'

'Thanks,' she giggled. 'But I already have a drink and sun lotion on my back.'

'Oh, okay,' he stood up about to walk away.

'Is there anything else you can do?' she asked. 'I'm sure I could find something for you to do. Why don't you sit back down and we can talk about it.' She patted the towel.

They spent the day chatting, she found out that Ryan was from London but had business dealings in Dover, France and around the world. She told him how she was training to be a nurse. They moved into the shade as midday came and then to the terraces where they ate lunch. That evening when her parents had returned from the historical chateau she told them all about him, enthusing about him so much that they invited him to join them for dinner.

'So you are in business?' her father asked as he bit into a piece of steak. 'What kind?'

'Freight and haulage. I help people move what they want around the world, someone might be emigrating to say Australia, we organise their belongings making sure they arrive there safely. Sometimes it's something big and sometimes small. We sort out all the paperwork, and make sure the package gets to its destination.'

'And do you have good business?'

'Very. We have some regular clients that have been so satisfied with the goods they received that they use us again and again. But we also help someone who has only one package to send somewhere. We pride ourselves in being faster than British Mail.'

'Have I heard of the company?'

'We're an arm of DHL.'

The next morning he joined them again for breakfast, and talk about business again to her father while squeezing her hand under the table.

'So what are you going today Alana?' her mother asked. 'I hope you aren't going to spend another day sunbathing.'

'I, um...'

'There's a day trip I was thinking about going on,' Ryan said. 'I noticed last night that it was in the itinerary. I've always wanted to go there, been to many others in England and around Europe but this one is really special. I used to enjoy drawing a lot when I was younger and painting, always wanted to see some of the earliest art produced.' His eyes shone.

'Oh Alana, you are into drawing too. You should show Ryan some of yours dear,' her mother smiled.

'You draw? You love art?'

'I'm not very good,' she lowered her head humbly.

'Yes she is, she thinks that because she only draws the same girl that she is no good, but there is something special about her drawings.'

Alana blushed.

'I would love to see it,' he squeezed her hand again. 'But today I want to go on the trip. Will you come?'

She laughed. 'I don't even know where it is, though I hope it isn't another trip to a crusty old chateau to look at paintings of women and men with too much lace around their necks and weird hairstyles and creepy eyes. Because if it is then I'm not going, I always imagine the drawings are watching me.'

'I'm not sure if there are any paintings of people, but if there are I promise they won't be wearing lace.' He chortled. 'They didn't even know how to make lace when the paintings were originally done, or want to know how they are made. Though the trip today is to see replicas not the originals. That is closed off.'

'Closed off? What for cleaning?'

'No, I doubt the general public will ever see them again, only in photos taken in the past. But the copy is supposed to be very good; I'm really looking forward to seeing it.'

Alana frowned. 'You still haven't told me where the trip is going.'

'I know,' he laughed. 'It's to see the copy of the Lascaux caves, and the primitive art on its walls.'

It had taken then all morning to travel to the Lascaux caves, so as soon as they had arrived they piled out, used the toilets and then had a picnic on a breezy meadow, just like they would have had in prehistoric time, their coach driver had said.

'Why can't we see the actual caves?' Alana asked as she bit into an apple. A strand of hair whipped around her face and she pulled it away from her mouth.

'They used to let people in but the paintings started to suffer for it. They restored them but the last few years they have been suffering from a mould that has meant hardly anyone is allowed in the caves.'

'So they copied the painting then?'

'No Lascaux two has been opened since nineteen eighty three. Though they only have reproduced part of the original paintings. I wish I could see them all,' he said wistfully but then smiled. 'But even just two sections if better than nothing.'

The chateau they were staying in had organised the tour of Lascaux two so a guide was waiting by the entrance of the caves when they arrived.

'Welcome to the Grotte of Lascaux,' he said in broken English, his French accent evident. 'My name is Philippe and I will be your guide today.'

Alana giggled as she remembered Ryan saying nearly the same thing.

The guide frowned at her. 'Before we go in, I must tell you of a few rules. One, do not touch the walls or paintings, two, if you have any food on you, then give it to me now and it can be stored in the guard house, three, please do not wander off, the paintings in these caves are replicas, the caves themselves are not. If you wander off, you will get lost in the cave system and it could take us many hours to find you. If we find you at all,' he added ominously. 'Okay, if we are all ready, follow me.' He turned and started striding into the caves' entrance.

The walls, glinting with crystallized calcite, were probably nearly white once but now they had a dirty sheen to them, like pale grey silk. As she moved slowly into the cave, the light from the flickering light bulbs sent static shadows to the edges of the cave, as if they were afraid of the humans invading their space. On the walls were four massive paintings of bulls, they looked like they were floating there, for a second she could almost see them running. They seemed to call to her, so much that she found herself walking closer. The paintings started a little above her chin rising up to the cave's ceiling.

'Don't touch the painting or walls,' the guide intoned, sounding bored as if he was used to saying it, which he probably was.

Alana stepped back.

'The original caves of Lascaux were found in nineteen forty by four teenagers and a dog and opened to the general public in nineteen forty eight. By nineteen fifty five it was evident that this was spoiling the paintings and in nineteen sixty three, the cave was closed and work started to restore the paintings. In nineteen eighty three, Lascaux two was open, with copies of two of the original halls. What you are looking at now is the replica of the Great Hall of the Bulls. The original paintings are estimated to be seventeen thousand years old though some think that they could be even older. The bulls painted here are the males of the auroch, a species similar to the modern cow that roamed the vast lands of prehistoric Europe and were one of the main food sources of the people then.'

Alana walked very carefully around the cave. The floor was uneven and a bit slippery. She stared up at the painting, imagining the people who had painted them. Wondering what they were like. What they used this cave for.

'In recent times,' the guide said. 'Lascaux has become popular with a new group of people. Their initial interest in the cave isn't a historical one but formed from reading a series of fictional books about a girl who lived during the ice age and who found this cave before it was painted.'

Suddenly Alana felt strange, like she had been in the cave before, or someone she knew had. She closed her eyes, tried to still the ache in her stomach. She remembered the dream she'd had after her tattoo. The feeling she had now was very similar to it but different too, she felt foreboding as if she wasn't safe. It was almost like she could feel someone standing next to her, someone from long ago. She frowned; she could have sworn she could hear the beat of drums and the mumble of low voices. She looked at the other people who had come into the cave with her, they didn't seem to be showing any signs of hearing anything, Nearby she could see Ryan talking to her parents, their lips moving but she couldn't hear them, she felt like she was too far away. Goosebumps prickled on her skin and she shivered. Her mouth tasted strange, it tasted of soil and nature, of trees, long gone. And then above drum beat and low mutterings she heard a roar and someone saw a large bear in a cage. She could still see the cave she was standing in, but it was as if she had double vision, seeing two scenes. Short, stocky men ran around the bear, baiting it with sharpened sticks but it pushed on the cage, broke it and was free. One of the men stood in front of it, waved his sharpened stick. The bear snapped his spine. A young woman carrying a wooden bowl filled with white liquid walked passed. With a gasp, Alana realised it was her.

'Alana, are you all right?' a voice cut through her thoughts. 'Alana.'

Absentmindedly, she turned to look at the man who was speaking. She saw him without seeing him.

'Alana!'

'What.' She shook her head and looked up at Ryan. 'Sorry I was miles away,' she smiled, though in truth it had seemed like she was thousands of years away.

'Do you want to sneak off into one of the side passages and see if we can find any primitive art ourselves?' he asked.

'Yeah,' she responded, not having understood what he had asked. She felt him drag on her arm. She pulled back.

'Come one,' he urged. 'Before that guide stops us.'

'Stops us what?'

'Stops us from having a wander around.'

'But he said that we shouldn't do that. We might get lost.'

He sighed. 'Okay, I suppose it is a dumb idea anyway. Just wanted a little alone time with you.'

'Oh, um, yes. I think we should stay with the guide,' she hurriedly said and then stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips when he looked disappointed.

The guide let them look around the Great Hall of the Bulls for some time but then lead them into the other half of the reproduction. Stepping into this cave, the Painted Gallery, Alana's immediate thought was she was surrounded by horses. They were on the ceiling and the walls. She looked at her feet, half expecting to see more horses but it was just rock.

'Look at that horse,' she heard a nearby female voice say. 'That painting looks just like Whinney when she was pregnant with Racer.'

'I know,' another voice agreed, male this time. 'And look at that painting of the dark horse. It could be Racer.'

'I can just imagine Ayla and Jondalar charging into a herd of deer with them.'

'I know, it's like they are hidden behind the horses, pity Wolf and Baby aren't there too.'

Alana thought about turning around and asking what the couple were talking about for a moment. Her name was so close to the Ayla they had mentioned. But then she realised that they would think she was being silly. Nevertheless, she wondered who this Ayla was and if she was connected to the series of books that the guide had mentioned.

As they left Lascaux, she went up to the guide. 'You know you said that Lascaux was in a series of fictional books, what are they called?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know, something about a cave bear and earth's children.'

Alana quickly scribbled that on a piece of paper she'd had in her bag along with the names Ayla, Jondalar, Whinney, Racer, Wolf and Baby. She'd Google them when she got back to her hotel room.

She was exhausted by the time they got back to the chateau but after having a shower and getting into her night things, she still found time to Google the names and words she had written down. She had just read about 'Ayla (Earth's Children)' on Wikipedia when there was a soft knock on the door. She slipped her feet into her slippers, put on her dressing gown and padded to the door.

'Hi Alana,' Ryan leant on the frame of the door as she opened it. He had a big grin on his face. 'One of my friends is having a party tonight and I wondered if you would like to go?'

'I don't know,' she frowned. 'I'm pretty tired.'

'You are pretty,' he smirked. 'But you can't be so tired that you miss having a good time. My friend has organised a live band and there will be dancing and food.'

Alana sighed. 'It does sound good but I'm knackered. I really need to go to bed. Sorry, maybe next time.'

'Okay,' he nodded. Reached out a hand and stroked her cheek. 'Next time then. You get some sleep.' And he turned and walked down the corridor.

Alana yawned. Shut the door, and walked to her bed. She took off her dressing gown and slippers, pulled back the covers on the bed and climbed in. She leant over and flicked the switch near her bed that turned off the lights. Soon she was fast asleep.

A river chased white water to her side, the hot sun burnt down on her making her already tanned skin even darker. She saw a herd of deer, and crouched down low. Hiding behind the tall grasses, she watched. She knew she was downwind of them. Carefully she crept forwards, making sure that each step landed where it would make no noise. She watched as a male herded a few females to the other side of the meadow, using its great antlers. But one was left behind, a young one, hardly out of adolescents. She raised her spear ready to throw, and stared at it with shock, wondering why she should have such a thing. She looked down at her feet, encased in hide boots, her legs in hide leggings and a tunic of hide decorated with feathers and stones.

A spear flew out of a nearby tree, and then a girl clothes like she was, a woman really, dropped out of it, running to where the animal was bleeding to death. Her blonde hair streamed out behind her. 'Come on,' she shouted to Alana. 'Help me.'

Alana stood up, saw the rest of the herd of deer running away, and timidly walked up to where the girl was gutting the dead animal.

'Hello,' she said, smiling up at her, while her hands dripped blood.

'Hello,' Alana responded, her stomach lurching within her as if she was in a boat at sea. She didn't want to watch but couldn't tear her eyes away as the girl skinned the animal and started cutting its flesh into large pieces.

'We will eat well at the celebration tonight,' she grinned, a smear of blood on her cheek.

'Celebration?'

'To celebrate the work of Jonokol and the other Zelendonia.'

Alana shook her head. 'I don't understand.'

The girl woman smiled. For the first time Alana saw she had a basket on her back with a wriggling blonde haired baby inside. She wrapped the meat into hide and put them into a hide bag. 'The paintings, in the cave I found. They are finished. Come.'

Alana took the girl's hand, and moving quickly over the land, as if she was flying. They entered a familiar cave, paintings of four large pulls in the first one. But they were fresh, not old and cracked. A crowd of people stood in the middle of the cave, staring up at the wall. A large woman greeted the girl and then Alana.

'How is this possible?' Alana asked.

A voice came on the slight breeze that ran through the cave towards her. It seemed to float in the air. It grew louder. 'Everything is possible for me.'

Alana turned around and saw the man from her dream. He with the bloodied hands and feet.

'You are a child of the past,' he said. 'And also the future.'

Alana frowned.

'You must prepare for the future. For what is to come. Look around you, these people painted on the walls of this cave, and many like it. Long after they are gone, they are remembered. So it will be with you. You must paint the past, so it is part of the present and future.'

'But I can only draw the same girl, over and over again.' She looked to where the girl who had brought her was stood with a blond hair man, holding a little girl's hand while the baby was in the man's arms pulling his long hair. 'Like her, I draw her.'

The man laughed. 'Yes you do,' he said. 'But I want you to do more than that; I want you to paint the girls, on canvass. Fill your home, wherever you live, with them.'

'But what about my nursing? Should I give up that?'

'No, your nursing is part of your life. It is what I want you to do. You must help others, those in need. The paintings are for the future.'

'I don't understand.'

He smiled. 'You are not supposed to. All you need to know is, I want you to paint, to help others and to learn new skills that you can pass on.' He waved his arm.

Alana felt herself lifted up, away from the man, from the cave paintings and the hide clothed people. And then she opened her eyes and found herself in bed, in the chateau room and the sun was streaming through a crack in the window.

She spent the next week talking to Ryan and showing him her drawings. She didn't mention her dream, but said that she was thinking about starting to paint to which he said she should. They ate breakfast together and lunch and tea and finally on her last full day of holiday he asked her again to go to a party with him. By then she was totally hooked on him and readily agreed to come, especially when he said, after she wasn't too sure about going, that her parents could accompany them.

He picked her up from her room, she wearing a silver clinging dress and he wearing a smart shirt and trousers. As it was the last night they would have on this holiday, he had organised a horse and buggy to take them to the party in the village of Montignac. They pulled up at a large white house, lights in every window and music blaring out of the doors. He helped her mother down from the buggy and then her. He waved the driver away and led them up the steps into the house.

'Hello,' he said as friends greeted him and he introduced Alana and her parents to them.

This was a party like none she'd been to with her friends. Ryan led them into a large room where a massive table filled the middle. He pulled out a chair for her mother to sit down, her father sitting next to her and then pulled out another chair for Alana and sat next to her.

Someone put a rectangle white plate in front of her, with what looked like three little things on it, food. She turned to look at Ryan, her eyebrow arched to silently ask what was happening.

He laughed. 'My friend,' he whispered into her ear. 'I think he has what they call delusions of grandeur. Though he owns this house, though I suppose he is allowed to be extravagant.'

'And this is?' she indicated her plate.

He pointed at a white mound with what looked like think black grainy substance on top. 'I believe that is a Cauliflower Panna Cotta with an Oyster Nectar Gelee topped with Lumpfish Caviar.'

'And this?' she pointed to a small bowl filled with a thick purple liquid topped with a dollop of something white that floated on top.

'That is Red Cabbage Gazpacho with Mustard Ice Cream.'

'What about this?' She picked up a large spoon shaped implement. It was filled with a piece of fish and topped with red and green sauces. Next to it was what looked like piece of toast, though after picking it up, she realised it wasn't.

'Red Snapper Ceviche with a Rutabaga Chip and Guacamole.'

'Oh.' She put a spoon into the cauliflower panna cotta. Smacked her lips together. 'Not bad,' she grinned.

She ate the food with relish and it was soon replaced with another course, which Ryan told her was Seared Scallops with Butter Poached Lobster and Fresh Morels in a Tarragon Lime Emulsion topped tableside with Parmesan Foam. It was followed by another eight courses, Seared Foie Gras with Sour Cherry Compote and Toasted Homemade Brioche. Corned Beef and Chicken Tortellini made with homemade Ricotta and Mascarpone Cheese and served with a Roasted Red Pepper Cream Sauce and a Sauteed Sage Leaf. Mangalitsa Pork Belly slow braised in Guiness and topped with Bourbon barbeque Sauce and Shaved Black Truffles, served with Grits made with nine year old cheddar and Molasses Sauteed Collard Greens. Meyer Lemon Oregano Sorbet as a palate cleanser. Julienned Sugar Peas, Greek Yogurt, and Homemade Eucalyptus Marshmallows, served with a Green Pea Veloute. Caesar Salad sat on a Mascarpone filled Brioche Crouton and wrapped in pickled anchovy. Braised Lamb Osso Buco topped with Gremolata and Rack of Lamb and served with Black Quinoa tossed with Gremolata, Golden Raisins, Slivered Almonds, and Braised Carrots. To finish they had Cocao Nib Panna Cotta with Fresh Raspberries and Syrup, Milkless Mousse from Peruvian Single bean Chocolate in a Chocolate Ring and Black Bottomed Praline Bar with Chocolate Ganache. .

She had never seen so many courses, only used to have three on special occasions, and one or two the rest of the time. But she enjoyed the food, glad that they had big time periods between each course where the other members of the party would entertain them with a story or a song. Even so by the time all her plates had been emptied she felt like she would never have to eat again. She was also feeling a bit lightheaded from the glasses of wine she had sipped throughout the evening.

'Come on,' Ryan grabbed her hand and dragged her away from the table. 'There will be dancing soon,' he grinned.

'Dancing?' she groaned and shook her head. 'I don't think I could, not after all that food. I'd be sick.'

'No you won't.'

'Alana, go and dance with the nice young man,' her mother said. 'You can work off all that food like that.'

She did dance once, surprised when it turned out to be an old fashioned waltz. But then, with all the spinning, she felt dizzy and asked if they could get some air.

'Of course,' he grinned, waving her father to sit down when he started to rise when Alana headed for the door outside.

Alana breathed in the smell of roses and fresh air. She could hear a dove nearby cooing. 'It's beautiful here,' she grinned as he walked up behind her, his hands behind his back.

'Even more so with you here,' he leant over and kissed her on the cheek.

She blushed and then turned when a woman, the worse for drink, stumbled out of the doorway towards them.

Ryan slipped something into his pocket, a rueful smile on his face when he saw the woman and then turned back to Alana. 'You should see the maze if you think this is nice,' he said.

'I would like that.'

He took hold of her arm, and led her down some gardens steps to a lower part of the garden. It was darker here, and Alana could see the stars twinkling in the sky. She sighed at how romantic it all was.

They came to the entrance of the maze and he led her through until they came to a little stone bench, with ivy growing over the back of it, and roses over the top.

'Oh how sweet,' she smiled.

'Would you like to sit on it for awhile?'

She nodded.

She could see the sky still even though she was surrounded by foliage. The North Star shone down, flickering as if it was watching.

Ryan slipped his hand into his pocket again. Pulled something out.

'Alana,' a voice shouted from the entrance to the maze. 'Alana, it's getting late, we really need to get back to the chateau. We have to get up early tomorrow. It was her father.

'I have to go,' she stood. 'I doubt I will see you tomorrow, but phone me when you get back to England and we can meet up.'

He nodded his head but didn't move.

'I will need you to show me the way out.'

He sighed. 'Can't you stay another half hour? I could drive you myself back to the chateau.' He stared into her eyes.

She closed her eyes, and felt his lips on hers. Felt his arms around her. 'I can't,' she said breathlessly, because in truth she didn't want to leave him. She wanted to stay with him forever.

'Just ten more minutes?' he said hopefully.

She shook her head. 'I need to go.'

Reluctantly he stood up, putting what he had taken out of his pocket back in it again. But he knew that he would see her again and there was time enough for it then. It all had to be done properly. 'Okay,' he took hold of her hand. 'I will take you to your father, but I will be coming to see you Oxford as soon as I am back in England.'

She grinned. 'Good,' she said and kissed him on the cheek.

When she got back to her room, she remembered how he had seemed to want to be alone with her. And how he obviously had something in his pocket. 'He was going to propose,' she realised. 'I'm sure of it, he was going to propose and I messed it up by insisting he take me to my father. 'I am so dumb.'

As soon as they got home, the phone was ringing. Alana answered it to find out it was Ryan.

'Hey, how are you? Did you have a good journey home?'

'It was fine,' she giggled at how eager he sounded. 'Are you still in France? You sound so close.'

'For another week yet, though I am thinking about travelling back early. I miss you.'

'I miss you too,' she twirled the telephone wire around her finger.

'Oh, my mobile is ringing. I'd better go. I'll phone back soon.'

'Okay,' she said sadly and put the receiver back on the phone.

He phoned her later that day, and again the next morning. He told her how much he was missing her and she told him the same. But then she had to go back to the hospital to start the second year of her training.

'Did you have a good holiday?' Tasha whispered to her as they sat in a boring lecture.

'Yeah. I met someone,' she said back quietly.

'The heart is a four-chambered organ that lies in the mediastinal space in the thorax,' their tutor droned in the background.

'Oooh, what's he like?'

'Black hair, tan, brightest blue eyes I've ever seen.'

'It is divided by the septum, forming the right and left atrium and the right and left ventricle,' their tutor pointed to a diagram on the interactive white board.

'He sounds wonderful. Is he French?'

'No, he's from London. He's been phoning me two or three times a day since I got back from holiday.' Alana scribbled down some notes about the heart.

'Valves separate the chambers of the heart: the Mitral valve separates the left atrium and the left ventricle, the Aortic valve separates the left ventricle and the aorta, the Tricuspid valve separates the right atrium and the right ventricle and the Pulmonic valve separates the right ventricle and the pulmonary artery.'

'Are you going to see him again?'

'Yeah, but he's still in France at the moment. Comes back in a few days.'

'The heart is: o Composed of three layers: endocardium, myocardium, and epicardium and a fibroserous sac called the pericardium.' The tutor raised her voice. 'If I am disturbing you ladies, then maybe you would like to leave the room.' She glared at Alana and Tasha.

After that they settled back into their work.

'Guess what?' Vicki sat down at the cafeteria table, putting her tray down so hard that she splashed coffee across it.

'What?' Alana grabbed a tissue and wiped up the liquid before it could drip off the edges.

'I'm engaged.' She pulled a chain from her neck on which hung a gold ring with diamonds and sapphires set in it. 'Mike has asked me to marry him.'

'The blond haired doctor?'

She nodded and bit into her sandwich. 'We are going to get married once I have finished this year. He's a qualified doctor now, and by then I will be a qualified nurse.' She grinned.

'Congratulations.'

'I am so excited. He only asked me the other day and I have already brought five bridal magazines.' She put her sandwich down and rifled through her bag. 'Look at this dress.' She shoved a magazine at Alana with a photo of a woman dressed in a tight white dress with ruffles that started at the thigh level down to her feet.

'It's lovely.' She picked up another magazine and noticed a very pale lemon dress, covered in sparkling yellow stones. 'That's the dress I want,' she thought. 'When Ryan and I get married.' She smiled absentmindedly.

'So I want you and Chloe to be my bridesmaids,' Vicki was saying.

'Pardon?'

'I said I had found wonderful bridesmaid dresses and want you and Chloe to be my bridesmaids.'

'Oh,' she took a few moments to register what her friend had said, her mind still on thoughts of Ryan. 'Oh,' she grinned. 'I'd love that.'

'Good,' Vicki looked at her closely. 'Have you got something to tell me?'

Alana smiled. 'I met the most wonderful man while I was on holiday. He's called Ryan and lives in London.' She whispered. 'I think he nearly proposed to me.'

'Really? But you haven't known him too long; it's a bit quick isn't it?'

'Yes, but sometimes you just fall in love and don't have to mess around with getting to know each other.' She looked at Vicki. 'Maybe we could have a double wedding.'

Vicki just blinked.

As well as going to lectures and talking to Ryan, Alana managed to get hold of the first book of the Earth children series and was soon totally and utterly hooked on it. Before she had finished it, she had brought the other four and just devoured them, and then read them again a second time. She looked at the maps at the front of the books, compared them with Google maps and researched on the internet about Venus figures from the Stone Age.

As well as that, she continued to draw but started to paint as well. She found that she wanted to paint the blonde haired girl/ woman from her dream, putting her in many of the situations that she had read about in the books. As a child being scratched by a cave lion, as a young woman living on her own in a cave, travelling with her true love, their matrimonial and the birth of their first child. But she found that yet again, other images fought in her brain to be down on paper so she painted a girl wearing rough clothing and watching another girl sacrificed at Stonehenge and another girl sitting in boy's clothing in a crow's nest at the top of a boat. She also painted a picture of a girl that her mother had told her was her great grandmother, crawling through smoke with an injured man on her back.

And she started to fill the walls of her home with them.

Alana ran to the front door when she heard the knock, she opened it and flung herself into Ryan's arms. 'I've missed you so much,' she mumbled as she kissed him.

'I've missed you too,' he said putting his arms around her. 'Are you ready to go out?'

She nodded her head and grabbed her coat. The summer sunshine had disappeared now, replaced with autumn gloom and the trees losing their leaves. 'Where are we going?'

'Ah,' he grinned. 'Wouldn't you like to know?'

She giggled and then frowned when she saw Vicki running up her driveway.

'Oh Alana,' the girl sobbed. 'I've had an argument with Mike and given him his ring back.'

Alana didn't know what to say or do. She desperately wanted to go out to wherever Ryan had planned to take them, but couldn't ignore her friend. She shrugged sorrowfully at him. 'Come in Vicki, I will make you a cup of tea.'

'I'll go for a walk,' Ryan said. 'I'll come back in an hour and then we can have our date.'

She nodded and after quickly looking to see if the crying girl was looking, leant up and kissed him. 'See you soon,' she breathed in his ear.

'I've ruined my life,' Vicki wailed as her tears fell into her tea. 'Mike and me were fine and then I said that I wanted to get married in at Headington hall, while he wanted to have a Church wedding. That wasn't part of how I'd always dreamt my wedding would be, and I told him there was no way I was getting married in a Church. But he was adamant, said it as a Church or not at all. So I said not at all and threw my engagement ring at him.' She blurted this all out in one go, barely taking a breath.

'You will work things out.'

'I don't think so; you should have seen his face. He was really angry and upset.'

'He loves you. Everything will be okay. You just have to explain to him how much you have always longed to get married at the Hall. And think about it, you could get a blessing in a Church afterwards.'

'I suppose.'

'Look, you should phone him. Try him on your mobile now.'

'No, I'm too scared he won't want me anymore. Oh what are my parents going to say? They will think I am so stupid. Alana, can I stay the night here with you?'

'I guess but...'

'Brilliant, we can have a pizza party.' She pulled out her mobile and ordered pizza. 'Have you anything I could change into? Some pyjamas? Think you should get changed too.'

When Ryan came back, Alana was dressed in nightclothes with pizza in her stomach.

'I'm sorry,' she kissed him and then wiped some Margareta sauce that had been on her mouth off his.

'What about tomorrow?' he looked hopefully at her.

She shook her head. 'My mentor is on nights this week at the hospital so I have to do them too. I won't be free until Saturday and I'm going to a party then. Though you could come as my guest.'

'I would like that.'

'It won't be a posh party like the one your friend had. More of a beer, nibbles and dancing party.'

'The best kind,' he kissed her. 'Until Saturday sweet princess,' he said.

'Saturday,' she grinned, watching until he had disappeared down a side road. 'I wonder if he will propose then.'

First night of her second year placement and Alana walked onto the ward where she would spend her time. Women padded around in slippers, some with massive stomachs and some wheeling what looked like fish tanks on wheels with new born babies in them. She walked up to the midwifes' station and introduced herself. She was assigned to work with a long since qualified midwife called Janet to do observations on some of the women and followed her to a ward with four bed were filled with four pregnant ladies. They washed their hands.

'Hello ladies,' she headed towards a bed next to the window, closing the curtains as she got there. 'Hello Laura,' she said to the woman there. 'How are you today?'

'I'm all right, hoping I can go home today.'

'That depends on what your blood pressure is like.' She turned towards Alana. 'This is Alana, a student nurse. Is it all right if she watches?'

'Sure.'

Alana watched Janet grab a nearby blood pressure machine, she rolled it over to Laura and attached an inflatable pad around her arm and turned it on. It filled with air and eventually pinged and started deflating.

'Your blood pressure is much better,' the midwife said. 'One hundred and ten over eighty and your pulse is eighty beats per minute.' She wrote these down on a chart at the bottom of the Laura's bed. 'Have you got a sample for me?'

Laura gasped. 'I forgot but I need a wee now.'

'Okay, you go to the toilet and we will get the foetal monitor.'

The foetal monitor was a large machine on wheels, with pads to attach to a mother's stomach; they wheeled it to Laura's bed. A few seconds later, the pregnant woman came out holding a covered jug. Janet took it from her and took a urine test strip and put it in the contents of the jug.

'Your urine is fine,' she said and went to empty the jug, washing her hands as she entered the ward again.

'How are you ankles?'

Laura by now was back on the bed and Janet quickly examined her ankles. 'Your oedema is gone,' she said. 'I just need to examine your stomach, see that everything is okay, and then I will put the foetal monitor on you.' She gently started to prod Laura's stomach and then looked up and smiled at her. 'Baby seems to be growing fine.' She looked at Alana and then back at Laura. 'Would it be all right if Laura had a feel of the baby?'

Alana blinked, she hadn't expected that.

'Yeah all right,' Laura said.

Stepping forward, Alana put her hands on Laura's stomach and timidly felt for the baby.

'A bit more forceful,' Janet said, putting her hands on Alana's and pushing down a bit.

She could now feel what felt like the baby's bottom under her hands. 'I can feel it,' she smiled.

After they had done the observations of the other three women on the ward, Janet led Alana to a side room.

'This lady has got high blood pressure like Laura, but she was only admitted this afternoon.'

Alana nodded her head and followed her in.

'Hello Rose, my name is Janet, and this is a student nurse Alana who with your permission will watch me do your observations.'

'Okay,' Rose replied, an edge to her voice.

They washed their hands.

'I've come to see how you are doing. Have you been measuring your urine?'

'Yeah,' she struggled to get out of bed, and then over an enormous stomach, picked up a large jug.

'Brilliant,' she quickly noted down how much Rose had done and then stuck a test stick in it. 'You have some protein in your urine,' she said and left the room to empty the jug.

Alana stood self consciously by the door.

'Do I know you?' Rose asked and then put her hand on her stomach and let out a wail. She squeezed her eyes tight and breathed in and out deeply.

'Are you having contractions?'

A few moments later Rose opened her eyes. 'Just a bit,' she said. 'But I do know you don't I?'

Janet came back in. 'Okay, I will do your blood pressure now.'

'She's having contractions,' Alana quietly said.

'What?' Janet looked at Rose's notes. 'You're only thirty four weeks aren't you? Oh you're having twins. Yes, they could come at any time now. Let me feel your stomach.'

Rose started to pull her nightie up but then stopped and closed her eyes. She wailed again. 'It hurts.'

'I know dear,' Janet tried to comfort her as she felt her stomach. 'Yes, you are having contractions. According to your notes, you are down for a possible caesarean in two weeks, seems like the babies are eager to come out. I will tell the doctor.' She left the room again.

Alana stepped forward and took Rose's hand. 'You will be okay,' she said. 'And so will your babies.'

Rose's eyes flew open, she stared at Alana. 'You're the nurse aren't you? The one who delivered my Olivia last year at the shopping centre?'

Memories flew through Alana's mind and she gasped. 'Yes, I am. How is she? I would ask how you were too but the answer to that is pretty evident.'

'Will you come in with me? When I have the baby. I don't want to go in alone. I'm so scared.'

'Ssh,' Alana smoothed the damp hair of Rose's forehead. 'If they allow me to come in, then of course I will. But don't you want the babies' dad to be there?'

'That jerk? Ran off with another woman not long after I got pregnant. I haven't seen him for months, neither has Olivia.'

'Oh, I'm sorry.'

Janet came back into the room followed by a white coated man.

'I hear you are having contractions,' he said to Rose. 'May I?' He put his hands out towards her stomach.

Rose nodded her head and pulled her nightie up again.

The doctor rubbed his hands together. 'Just started my shift,' he said to explain why his hands were cold. He started to prod Rose's stomach. 'You have one baby here, and another one here.'

Rose started breathing deeply again.

'And you are having a contraction.' He looked at her notes. 'You had a scan this afternoon?' he looked at Rose.

She nodded and wailed at the same time.

'It's not here,' he turned to Janet. 'Can you find them?' He looked back to Rose. 'Last time you had a scan, your placenta was low lying, we need to see the scan to see if that is still the case. The babies seem quite big for thirty four weeks, so I think we might have to do a Caesarean tonight.'

Rose blinked. 'Isn't it too soon?'

'The babies will probably have to go into NICU, but like I said, they are a good size. But I will stop the labour if I can. I will do your blood pressure while I'm waiting for your scans.' He turned to Alana. 'Can you get me a blood pressure machine?'

Alana nodded her head and left the room, passing Janet with the scans on her way. She quickly found a machine and wheeled it back to the room.

'Your placenta is still low lying,' she heard the doctor say. He took the blood pressure machine off Alana and strapped it around Rose's arm. 'Your blood pressure was one hundred and fifty seven over eighty when they sent you up here,' the pad around her arm inflated and then pinged. 'It's now one hundred and fifty six over seventy nine, it's hardly gone down. You've got protein in your urine, have you got any oedema?'

'What?' Rose didn't understand what he meant.

'Swelling, water retention, especially around your ankles.' He pulled the blanket off her feet and felt her ankles. And then he looked up at her. 'Have you had any other symptoms? Headache? Nausea? Changes in your vision?'

'A bit,' Rose admitted, gritting her teeth as another contraction rocked her. 'Yes,' her eyes watered with pain.

'Okay,' he gave her a moment for the pain to go and then started talking. 'You are thirty four weeks pregnant with twins, you have high blood pressure, protein in your urine, oedema, and other symptoms of preeclampsia, you are getting contractions but your placenta is blocking their way out. I could give you medication to stop labour but I think for you and your babies, it would be safer if they were delivered. And that has to be by caesarean.'

Rose started to cry. 'I'm so scared.'

'Yes love, we know you are,' Janet rubbed her back. 'But a caesarean is really the best choice.'

'Okay,' she closed her eyes and wailed as more pain ripped through her.

'I will organise an emergency caesarean,' the doctor said, starting to leave the room.

'Can Alana be there? I haven't got anyone else.'

'Who?' the doctor stopped and looked at Rose.

'Alana, the nurse over there.'

'Oh we don't usually let student nurses see births,' Janet started to say.

'But I know her; she helped me when my daughter was born. I want her there.'

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. 'What year of training are you in?' he asked Alana.

'Second.'

He looked at Janet and then Alana.

'She really helped me when I had my daughter, I was shopping and went to the toilet and she got me to a clean room and delivered the baby. I would really like her there with me again.'

'Okay,' the doctor said as he left the room.

Half an hour later Rose was being wheeled on a trolley into the operating room, having been given a local anaesthetic.

'Stay come Alana.' Rose said, gripping her hand.

'I'm right here, how are you feeling?'

'I feel all right,' she grinned. 'The room is spinning a little but I'm not getting any more contractions.' She giggled.

A green screen was placed over her lower chest so she couldn't see and get scared. Alana though could see right over it.

'Hello Rose,' the anaesthetist said. 'I'm just going to do some tests to make sure you have lost all sensation in your stomach.' He scratched his nail over her tummy. 'Can you feel that?'

Rose shook her head.

'Good.' He performed a couple more tests and then topped up her anaesthetic. Then he nodded to the doctor.

The doctor did a horizontal incision with a scalpel in Rose's lower abdomen. A nurse learnt over and swabbed up the blood. He then cut deeper into the fatty tissue. Then he cut through a shiny, tough, fibrous layer and through the join in the abdominal muscles. He then cut though a filmy, flimsy layer with a pair of sharp, thin scissors.

'When's he going to stop pressing on my stomach and start?' Rose looked up at Alana and asked.

Alana smiled comfortingly at her.

Rose's bowel could be seen now, she watched as the doctor opened up the filmy, flimsy layer, revealing it even more and the rest of the lower abdomen. He cut through another filmy, flimsy layer further down and opened that up to reveal Rose's enlarged uterus. He used a retractor to push her bladder out of the way and then looked up and at Rose.

'Not long now Rose and your babies will have arrived.'

She nodded her head.

He made an incision into the lower part of her uterus and through a placenta sac, and started to remove what was underneath. Gently he pulled, a bloodied baby out, its limbs curled up in surprise.

'That's number one twin,' he said, putting two clamp on its umbilical cord and cutting it between them before giving the baby to a paediatrician who immediately took it off to suction its nose and throat.

'It started to cry.'

'My baby,' Rose sobbed, her head turning to where the paediatrician was rubbing the baby with a soft towel.

The doctor repeated what he had done for the second baby, handing it over and started to remove the placentas.

The second baby was bluer, the pedestrian that had been handed it, suctioned it nose and throat, rubbed it with a soft towel to get its circulation working.

It hiccupped and then let out a soft wail, followed by a lustier one.

The first paediatrician brought baby number one over to Rose, wrapped in a blanket and put it gently on her chest.

Rose's arms curled up over it, holding it. 'What is it?' she asked.

Alana looked at the paediatrician who nodded and gently pulled the blanket away from the baby's lower body, in amidst its kicking legs, it was evident what gender it was.

'It's a boy,' she laughed. 'My little Aaron.'

The second baby was brought over, and Alana pushed its blanket aside.

'It's a girl,' she grinned. 'I think I will call her Alana.'

'Ooh, you didn't say how handsome Ryan is,' Chloe said in front of him as Alana and Ryan entered. She smirked and fluffed out her white blonde hair. 'You'd better be careful or someone might take him off you.'

And with that she wandered off into the lounge of her house, joining in the dancing, leaving the two of them looking at each other astounded.

'I only have eyes for you,' he said, putting his arm around her.

Alana stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. 'I'm glad to hear it,' she whispered in his ear.

They went into the kitchen, where a group of other friends were stood, along with Vicki. She greeted them with a smile.

'The date,' she said. 'I'm so sorry I messed your night the other day.'

Ryan shrugged his shoulders. 'You were upset,' he said. 'Have you got everything sorted out now?'

'Oh yes,' she giggled. ''We are going to get married next July, right after I finish my last year.'

Alana dragged on Ryan's hand. 'Come on, they are setting the fireworks off soon,' she said. 'And then we will have jacket potatoes.'

He allowed Alana to drag him outside and for the next hour they watched as Chloe's dad set off firework after firework, Catherine wheels, roman candles, rockets and others. Then they ate jacket potatoes topped with cheese and had a barbeque.

It was during this, that Alana began to feel a little ill. Her stomach was cramping a little and she felt sick. She told Ryan and then rushed into the house.

'Uhhhh,' she groaned as she held back her hair as she threw up in the toilet. She had just emptied her stomach for the fifth time when there was a knock on the bathroom door.

'Alana?' said a female voice.

'Vicki, I'm in her.' Green faced she went to the door.

Vicki put her hand to Alana's head. 'You're burning up,' she said. 'I think you should go home. Would you like me to take you?'

Alana shook her head. 'I think once I am feeling a bit better I will find Ryan and get him to take me home. He said he arrived in a car so I won't have to walk like I did here.'

'Do you want me to find him?'

'Yeah, please,' she sat down on top of the toilet seat.

A few minutes later, Vicki came back. 'I can't find him,' she said. 'I've looked everywhere and he's gone.'

'Oh.'

Vicki frowned as if she was deciding whether to tell Alana something or not. 'Chloe's disappeared too.'

'What?' Alana looked at the knowing look on her friend's face. 'No,' she screamed. 'He wouldn't.'

'I hope not but Chloe was really flirting with him every time your back was turned.'

'Yes, but he wouldn't.' She started to cry. 'Maybe he got fed up with waiting. Thought I wasn't really interested in being his girlfriend. Oh Vicki, what have I done?'

Vicki pursed her lips. 'You haven't done anything wrong,' she said. 'If they are together then they are to blame. But we don't know anything. It could just be a co-incidence that they are both missing.'

'I guess.' Alana rolled sheet after sheet of toilet paper from its roll and wiped her eyes and face. Then she blew her nose.'

'Look, let me take you home,' Vicki stepped towards her and gently helped her up.

Alana nodded. 'Yes take me home, please I want to go home.'

They were just coming down the stair when Ryan walked in, he looked flustered.

'Where have you been?' Vicki accused.

'I went for a walk,' he garbled. 'But that is unimportant. Your friend Chloe, I saw her dragged screaming and kicking into a car. It sped off before I could catch it. I think she's been kidnapped.'

The police were called and arrived just as Chloe's parents came home. They'd been on a few days holiday away but had had an argument so had decided to come home early, now that was forgotten as they realised the terror that their only child was missing. The police asked lots of questions, especially of Ryan, who being the last to see her was the person of most interest. Finally they allowed everyone to go home, after taking details of their addresses, and went to do their work, trying to find Chloe.

Alana sighed as she looked out of the window at the drab day outside. The sky was grey, the clouds endless and heavy. The sun couldn't get through them, so though there was light, it was dull and miserable. It was raining, driving torrential rain, horizontal, lashing the ground, and flooding the streets. Cars drove through the large puddles, splashing up water that rained down on the pavement where it once again slowly dribbled down it back into the puddle on the road. Some though drained into the grass verges, and when a car turned around over one, there was a deep muddy cut in it where the wheels had churned mud up, and threw it over the grass. It was windy too, the tree branches whipped around wildly in it, and the rubbish bins fell over, loosing their contents over gardens. A pile of cans and bottles lay in a pile by one, and cardboard flew around the garden from another. And then the sky started to rumble and a few seconds later she saw a flash in the sky, lighting up the clouds so they looked dirty pink. Her father had always said they should unplug the aerials, in case lighting hit them when there had been thunder and lightning in the past. She knew right now he would be turning his television off. But she couldn't be bothered. She was too tired, and depressed. The rain, the weather outside seemed to reflect how she was feeling, a storm in her heart as she wondered what had happened to Chloe.

It had been a week since she'd disappeared and there had been no sightings of her. No trace. She had only seen Ryan a few times since then, when he had come over and she had spoken to him numerous times on the phone, but they still hadn't been on a date. After what had happened to Chloe her parents were reluctant to let her out of their sight. They'd even been dropping her off and picking her up at the hospital.

The hospital staff were as bad, though Chloe had been kidnapped from home, she was still one of their own, and they were making sure that no one else was lost. Security had been increased. Nurses told not to go anywhere on their own.

Posters had been put up about Chloe, a picture of her on them, as they tried to find her. They acted as much to warn everyone to be careful as well as wanting to find her.

But still there was no sign of what had happened to her. She had just disappeared. She hadn't taken anything with her, bar what she was wearing, no purse, or passport, nothing.

The rain was still falling, rivulets running down the glass in the window like tears. Alana wiped her own from her cheek. 'Where are you Chloe?' she whispered.

They were going out, finally, he was going to take her somewhere, she didn't know where but she was excited. She just hoped that nothing would spoil it this time, no friends or parents getting in the way, no feeling tired, or any other things. She was going on a date with Ryan and she hoped that he would propose.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, she was wearing a pair of jeans and a jumper, she would have preferred to have worn a party dress, but he had told her that she would need warmer clothes where they were going.

She tied up her hair in a pony tail, checked her makeup and then ran downstairs just in time to hear the door bell ring.

'Ryan,' she grinned and learnt forward and kissed him fully on the lips. It was December now, over a month since Chloe had disappeared without a trace and her parents had finally relented and let her go out. They trusted Ryan anyway, so were happy to let her go off with him.

'Alana,' he flicked her pony tail. 'You look so pretty.'

She looked down at herself and then up at him. She grinned. 'Am I dressed right?' she asked. 'For where we are going?'

'You are perfect, in every way,' he murmured. 'Shall we go?'

She nodded her head and taking his hand, followed him to his car. He opened the passenger side for her and she stepped in.

'Would you like to listen to some music?' he asked as he got into the car and started to rev up the engine.

'That would be nice.' She closed her eyes as the car started to move out of her street. She hoped when she got back, she would be Ryan's fiancée. 'Are we going far?' she asked, opening her eyes to see him put a cd in the player.

He winked. 'You will have to wait and see.'

She giggled and closed her eyes as a singer started to sing.

'Welcome to my nightmare, I think you're gonna like it. I think you're gonna feel... you belong. A nocturnal vacation, Unnecessary sedation. You want to feel at home 'cause you belong.'

She opened her eyes again and giggled. 'Didn't know you were into heavy metal,' she said.

'Yeah, I especially like this song by Alice Cooper but if you don't, I could change the song.'

'No, its fine.' She closed her eyes and listened to the rest of the song.

'Welcome to my nightmare. Welcome to my breakdown. I hope I didn't scare you. That's just the way we are when we come down. We sweat and laugh and scream here 'cuz life is just a dream here, You know inside you feel right at home here. Welcome to my breakdown, Whoa, You're welcome to my nightmare, Yeah. Welcome to my nightmare, I think you're gonna like it. I think you're gonna feel... you belong. We sweat laugh and scream here 'cuz life is just a dream here. You know inside you feel right at home here. Welcome to my nightmare. Welcome to my breakdown. Yeah.'

Alana sighed as the song finished, glad that it was over. She'd found a pretty creepy song. Another song replaced it. She looked at Ryan, his hands on the wheel staring at the road ahead. 'these songs are a bit dark aren't they?'

'Sorry,' he mumbled and turned the cd player off.

They were leaving the built up area now, heading into the countryside.

'Where are we going?' she asked.

'It's a surprise,' he said. 'You will find out soon enough.' He turned and smiled at her.

Alana sighed. They were heading down a tree lined road now, the branches of the trees nearly reaching the roof of the car. They turned onto a dirt tract and then pulled up outside a little cottage.

'Is this the surprise?' she asked. The cottage was beautiful, a single story, roses growing around it, over its walls, hanging over the door. The windows shone with reflected light and there was a little sign by the door that said, 'welcome.' Alana got out of the car and rushed towards it. 'Is this your surprise?' she repeated, turning around to look at him.

He swept her into his arms, kissed her hair and whispered into her ear. 'I was beginning to think this day was never coming.' He moved his hand around to his pocket and Alana stepped backwards, still in his arms but giving him room. She wanted to see his face; she was certain that any minute he would fall on one knee and bring out a ring.

She grinned, a goofy one. 'I love you Ryan,' she smiled.

'I love you too Alana,' he said. 'I love the profit you will bring me.' He stuck something sharp into her arm.


	23. Alana, 2005AD Part Two

'Wake up.'

Alana felt something banging against her ribs and realised it was a foot. She was laid on her side on a rough wooden floor, her hands tied behind her. Her legs were also bound together and she had what felt like a sock in her mouth, covered with a tight gag. A second later and it was ripped from her mouth, and the sock removed. She opened her aching eyes to the sight of Ryan bent down next to her.

'Pretty girl,' he purred, running his fingers through her hair. 'Pretty, pretty girl will bring me a pretty penny.'

'What's going on?' she gasped, her throat feeling rather sore.

He grinned, but it wasn't the smile she was used to, it was a smirk, a triumphant one. 'I knew that I would get you if I kept on trying, time after time something got in the way but not this time.' He sniggered. 'I knew as soon as I saw you laying on that towel in France that I had to have you.'

'Are you going to rape me?'

This question seemed to shock him. 'Of course not, I'm not doing this for sexual gratification, though some of the kisses you gave me nearly changed my mind. No, this is just business.'

'Business? But I thought you were in haulage.'

He laughed. 'But don't you see Alana, I am in haulage. It is just that the things I deliver are girls, young women. I deliver people.'

'Who to?' she started to cough and grimaced as it sent daggers to her brain.

'Oh clients. Sometimes somebody sees a pretty girl that they want to add to their women, they often call me then to kidnap the girl for them. Other times I see a girl, like you, who I think my one of my clients would like. I take them, smuggle them out of the country and then take them to see whoever I think will appreciate their, um qualities the best. And other times an opportunity just falls into my lap. Like that little friend of yours. She came onto me, but I told her we should go somewhere a bit more private. Then I stuck her with the needle I had for you, phoned a colleague who took her away. I earned a good profit for her.'

'Chloe? Where is she?'

He shrugged his shoulders. 'No idea. Probably been taken to brothel in Europe by now. She was a common sort anyway, she's do well there. You, on the other hand, are a rare bloom. You might be nineteen now, but I could tell that you were inexperienced. A virgin on the market, I'll make heaps.'

'You won't get away with it,' she hissed. 'My parents know I'm with you.'

'No, your parents know that you are with Ryan, who doesn't exist. Or at least hasn't since he died aged two. I just took his identity. And as to not getting away with it, well it came close, I didn't like the police interviewing me but I wanted you. I had decided that today would be the last time I tried, then whether I got you or not, I would disappear into the ether. As if I had never existed.' He snorted. 'Now be a good girl for me, and I will try to make sure you get a nice master. But struggle and I will put you in a brothel where you will be raped many times a day and have to service men for the rest of your life until one of them kills you.' He undid her legs. 'There's a potty over there,' I'm sure that you must have a full bladder by now.'

Alana looked towards the dirty but well illuminated corner where the potty sat waiting. 'But you are in here.'

'Yep, I am and though I won't touch, doesn't mean I won't look.'

'I don't need to go.'

'I think you do,' he shouted, dragging her to her feet. 'Go now, I don't want a mess in the van.'

She stumbled over to the potty, too scared of him not to. She did have a full bladder but she didn't want to empty it in front of him. But she also didn't want to spend hours or more in urine soaked clothes. She looked towards where he was staring at her, a smirk on his face.

'Now,' he ordered.

She timidly pulled down her jeans, pulling her jumper over her knees so nothing showed and quickly emptied her bladder. Then she pulled her clothes up again.

'Good,' he said. He walked over to her, each step seemingly growing bigger. He grabbed her by the hair and then stuck a needle in her arm again.

She dreamt she was flying, free, flying over the land, seeing the people. Green grass invaded by grey buildings. Blue water a reflection of the sky. People as small as ants. She could see people running, playing, joining hands, lovers, mother and child, dads out with their children for their weekly visit. People lying in the sun, others swimming. Aeroplanes filled with white faces. And she saw a van, its black sides glinting in the sun, racing across England, heading for the channel tunnel.

She woke up to darkness, and a feeling of vibrations underneath her that she realised was the motor of the van she was in. She started to struggle, to untie herself. And then it stopped. She heard the sound of a door slamming and then the creek of another one opening. Behind her. Suddenly where she was was flooded with light. She closed her eyes with pain and didn't see the man get in.

'Little Alana, awake,' Ryan sneered. 'Can't have that, not so near to Dover, don't want the authorities to realise I have company. Not that they ever have in all the hundreds of trips I've done before.

Alana opened her eyes just in time to see him sneer. He stepped closer and she saw a dripping needle in his hand. She tried to struggle, to get away but she was tied up and he was stronger than her. She felt the needle plunge into her arm. Within seconds her eyes started to droop, no matter how much she struggled to stop them. They closed.

'That's better,' he laughed.

She heard the back door shut, sensed she was in the dark again. Heard the other door open and close, heard talking in the front of the van, Ryan talking to someone, the engine started again, she felt the van starting to move and then she was pulled back into her dream.

She was swimming this time, in a cold river. Dunking under, thrilling in the way her breath was dragged from her lungs. Rising again, she gasped, her hands moving in thin ice that broke easily under her hands. She ran out of the water, wrapped a hide around herself and sat by a wood fire that as burning in the wood. Surrounded by stones to contain it, with a haunch of meat slowly cooking over it. She sniffed the aroma of the meat and grinned. Quickly she dressed in a hide tunic and leggings, pulling on stiffened hide around her feet and legs, and securing it with twine. She dragged her fingers through her hair and listened to the gentle cacophony of bird song in the trees. She leant forward and picked up a water bag, pouring water down her throat. After wiping her mouth, she cut off a bit of cooked meat with a flint knife, spearing it on and blew it until it was cool enough to eat. The taste of the meat filled her mouth, but was then replaced with the taste of stale bread.

She woke up choking, standing up, she looked and realised that she was no longer in the dark place but somewhere new. Ryan was crouched next to her, feeding her crumbs of bread, her gag gone.

'Eat will you,' he demanded, thrusting another piece of bread in her mouth, bigger this time, it made her choke again.

'Where am I?' she asked, her throat raw.

'Well you're not in England anymore,' he sniggered. 'And you will never see it again. Or your parents.'

She started to cry.

'I hated your parents; they were so protective of you, especially your father. There were a few times I wanted to stick my knife into him.'

She gasped.

'Always getting in the way, stupid man, and your mother, well let's just say he didn't deserve your mother. I thought about taking her too, just for me though, no one wants a middle aged woman, not for what you are destined for, but even so she was still beautiful. I would have used her a while and then stuck my knife in her too. I would have cut up from her ears to her toes, pulled all her innards out and then urinated on her face.'

'You monster,' she shouted.

He grinned. 'Oh I'm worse than a monster I promise you. And I've killed many a pretty girl for saying much less than that. So be careful, I might make a good profit from you, but maybe it would be worth not having, just to satisfy myself on you. Hmmm,' he rubbed his chin.

Alana blinked, feeling the blood drain from her face.

'I'll let you live for now, but don't test me,' he said, picking up a tin cup and bringing it towards her. 'Drink.'

She tried to drink, she was thirty after all and hoped it would soothe her sore throat but the liquid was bitter and she choked.

He thrust the cup harder against her lip, and poured it in faster. 'I don't want to inject you anymore. Even the slightest defect like a needle mark could detract on what I get for you. So from now on I'm going to drug your food and water.'

She spluttered. 'I won't drink it.'

'I think you will,' he took the cup away, grabbed her hair and pulled. 'You will do as I say.'

She woke to darkness again, but not total darkness like before but a night times darkness. She could see the moon in the sky, and stars through metal bar window. They were casting enough light that she could see where she was, sort of. The room was bare, what remained on its wallpaper was old and peeling, a dull pattern stained yellow by people smoking in the room. There was no carpet on the floor or on the windows. It was cold in the room, and she drew her legs up as best as she could to warm herself. She looked around for a door that would lead to escape but only saw the one, a yellow light shining under it.

She started to wriggle, and managed to get one hand free. It was enough for her to undo the rest of the ropes though it made her fingers bleed. She threw the rope on the floor and limped over to the door. Listening at it, she could hear distant voice. She risked opening the door and realised that it led into a corridor. Slipping out, she shut the door carefully and then started to inch herself along the corridor away from the sound of the voices.

As luck would have it, she had walked the right way, the other way leading deeper into the house. She soon came to a front door and tried the door handle. The door wasn't locked.

Once outside she started to run, she was in a vast garden of a big house. She could see a high gate some distance away, but thinking that there might be guards there that would stop her, she skirted around the building coming to a maze.

It was then that she realised where she was. She was at the house where Ryan, or whatever his name was, had taken her and her parents to the posh party. She was certain of it. She remembered seeing a high metal bar fence when she had stood on the balcony that night and decided that it could be her way out. It had been to the right of the maze, so that was the way she went.

She soon found it, and thought about trying to slip through the bars, but realised she wouldn't fit. For a moment she wished she had superhuman strength and could bend two of the bars to get to safety, but then she laughed to herself about how ridiculous she was being. She knew the only way out would be to try to climb the fence.

She stepped forward.

'I wouldn't do that if I was you,' a voice said.

Alana turned around and gasped. 'Chloe.'

'Yeah, it's me,' the girl grinned, but it wasn't a happy smile but more of a hopeless one. Her eyes were ringed with dark shadows, and her cheekbones gaunt against her face. Her body looked far thinner than it had the last time Alana had seen her, and her hair was dirty.

Alana started to cry. 'Help me Chloe, we can get away. Help me climb this fence and I will pull you up and then we can go to the authorities to get help.'

Chloe shook her head. 'A girl was brought here not long after I was taken; she tried to escape like you. She tried to climb the fence. The first anyone knew of her escape attempt was the smell of burning meat, the fence is electrified.'

'What?' Alana turned around and looked at the fence. Sure enough now she knew she could hear a light buzzing sound and see a spark here and there on the bars. She stepped away.

'That's why they let me wander around the grounds, they know I can't escape, or even try. The only time I am confined is when they have a party.' She gulped and a tear ran down her face.

'There must be some way out,' Alana said, putting her arms around the girl.

'There is no way, we are trapped and at the will of our captors. They say where we go now, we have no rights. But I should be thankful, I was supposed to be sold to a brothel but my captor, my master, took a liking to me. And so did his guests.'

'But...'

'The best you can do is accept your new life. You aren't a person anymore, you are a thing. But from what I've heard your life will be better than mine, hopefully. They plan to sell you to a Saudi Arabian who keeps a houseful of women to attend to his needs. A bit like a harem. You might be abused but if he does buy you, then it will be by only one man, maybe two. Not like me.'

'Have you been...'

Chloe's eyes closed tightly and she nodded her head. 'That is my life now. Now come on, we need to get you back to the house before they realise you are gone.'

Chloe took her back to her room, and loosely tied the ropes back on her. Just as she was about to leave, she hugged Alana, kissing her on the forehead.

And then she left.

She was barely out the door when Alana heard voices in the corridor.

'Chloe, what are you doing here?'

'I'm sorry master,' she heard Chloe say in a terrified voice.

'My animals belong in the garden,' he said. 'Why aren't you in there?'

'I'm sorry master,' Chloe said again and Alana could imagine from the tone of her voice that she was cowering from the man.

'I suppose you heard that we brought your little friend here,' he snorted, the echo of it passing through the walls to Alana. 'Did you think you could get in there to see her?'

'No master.'

There was the sound of slapping, and Alana could hear Chloe softly sobbing.

'Get out to the garden animal,' the man shouted.

'Yes master.'

Alana heard her scuttle off, and then a pair of heavy boots that stopped outside her door. It opened.

'Well, well, well, if it isn't little Alana back again.' A man walked into the room and came to stand over her. He put one finger under her chin and lifted her face up. 'So pretty,' he ran his hand over the curve of her cheek.

She stared at him with defiant eyes.

'And so angry. Oh how I wish I could be the one to teach you to be subservient.' He chuckled and bent down his head to press his lips on hers.

'Louie,' a voice came from the door. 'Leave her alone.'

Louie moved away from Alana, and angrily turned around. 'I was only going to kiss her, our client would never have known. It's not like I was going to do more.'

Ryan stood at the door. 'Yeah but a kiss does lead to more, it does with you anyway. And we don't have a client, he's pulled out. Says he's got enough white girls.'

'Damn.' Louie stamped his foot. 'What are we going to do?' He turned to look at Alana. 'Though we could enjoy her ourselves.'

'No, I worked too hard, had to put up with too much from her and her parents to not make a profit. We will find someone else.'

Louie nodded his head. 'I think you should untie her though, she can't escape so we might as well give her a bit of freedom. I'm sure that Chloe and Alana would have a lot to talk about. I caught the girl near here anyway.'

'Okay, but you'd better warn Chloe and the other women that they are not to touch Alana. I don't want any cuts or bruises on her.'

'Oh believe me; none of my women will hurt her. They all know that if they touched the merchandise they would suffer for it.'

She was led to a large room filled with bunk beds, enough for twenty women, though some of them had no bedding on them and looked like they weren't being used at that time. For a second Alana wondered which one would be hers, but Ryan dragged her through the room to a side door that led into a much smaller room, with only two bunk beds in it, enough for four. There was a woman sitting on one of the lower bunks.

'Why aren't you in the garden?' he shouted at her.

'I am sorry Simon,' she said.

'Don't call me that,' he screamed. 'How dare you call me that.' He raised his arm to hit her.

'Will you beat your sister as well as selling her into slavery?,' the woman said.

'Your sister?' Alana couldn't help but gasp. 'You are selling your sister? What kind of man are you?'

'Shut up,' Ryan, who was really called Simon, said. 'Jeanne, I've told you before to shut your mouth, or do you want me to cut your tongue out? I know some men would love a silent woman in their house, never having to listen to the moans of those lower than them.'

Jeanne didn't respond, instead she walked over to Alana and hugged her. 'Welcome to hell,' she said.

Alana glumly nodded her head.

'Alana is new here,' Simon, who was Ryan, said. 'Help hr make her bed up and then take her into the garden to meet the others. I expect you to look after her.'

'Yes Simon,' she said in a submissive voice.

'Jeanne,' he warned, his hand balled into a fist and raised. 'Call me master.'

'Yes master,' Jeanne shuddered and kept her eyes downcast.

'Good,' he sneered. 'Much better, you will make an excellent slave for someone.'

'Is he really your brother?' Alana asked as they put a sheet on a top bunk.

Jeanne nodded her head. 'Unfortunately he is. Well, Simon is my half brother anyway, same father but different mothers. He's five years older than me, was born to an English woman but she died. Our father was a businessman, though only legitimate work, and came to France for a business deal. My mother was working at the hotel he was staying at as a singer. They fell in love and married when Simon was four. And a year later I came along. He hated me, right from the start. He's told me that he used to pinch me in my pram to make me cry or put water on my dress when I was older so my mother would think I'd wet myself. He was always doing nasty things to me, and others. Bullying the neighbour's kids, or hurting animals. I remember when I was five seeing him sticking snails onto a rusty nail that pointed out of the wall. Not that I like them, but it was still cruel.'

'Yes it was,' Alana agreed.

'As I got older he got nastier and nastier. Taking the mickey out of me, putting a spider in my bed, pouring ink over the homework that I'd spent hours on. A lot of siblings fight but he was horrible. When I was sixteen, he got even worse. Started hanging out with all the wrong sort of people. Some girls in our village disappeared and our father thought he was involved. I remember coming downstairs to get a drink and snack after studying for my exams all day, I heard my arguing with him, accusing him and he shouting back. And then there was a bang and I heard my mother screaming. I ran to the door, saw my father fallen by the fireplace, a pool of red around his body and my brother with a gun against my mother's head. He shot her and then came for me.'

'Did he hurt you?'

'He hit me, but then stopped and just tied me up instead. Brought me here, and I've been here ever since. I think it's been two years now and every day he says he going to sell me, but so far he hasn't. Then he says he is just getting the right man organised for me. To buy me.' She wiped a tear from her cheek. 'He told me yesterday that he has a buyer who wants me and is willing to give him what he wants. So it seems I will be going soon, to my new home.'

'He's a pig,' Alana said. She quickly told her what had happened.

'Yes,' Jeanne nodded her head. 'I knew you were special as soon as he brought you in here. Most girls get put in the main room, and are sold to whoever, but the girls who are put in here, they're special. They're innocents, never touched by man, virgins. And they make him and his colleagues the most money.'

Alana looked around the room. 'The bunk below mine, it's got bedding too.'

'That's where Bianca sleeps, though she spends a lot of time with the other girls out in the garden. She's a healer and uses what's in the garden to help them. A man has hit one of them, and she makes a poultice to put on it. She's from a little village in England called Cleobury Mortimer. She was training to be a herbalist when Simon found her, but she is very beautiful so he kidnapped her.'

'What about the other girls? Where are they from?'

Jeanne sighed. 'Everywhere, often they only say a few days until they are moved on to a brothel or some other place. They keep the innocent girls in here, and the ones that are not out there, though often they are only lacking in innocence because of my brother and his cronies. I wish I could help them, but I can't even help myself.'

Simon came for her the next morning; he actually wanted all three of the girls in the innocence room, his sister and Bianca as well as Alana. He took them through the house into a room lined with books and told them to wait. Leaving the room, he came back a little while later with Louie behind him.

'Great news ladies,' Louie said. 'We have found somewhere for you all. Tonight Ryan here and a couple of other men will escort you to your new homes and countries where you will meet with your potential masters. If they like the look of you all then we will sell you and you will never see us again.' He snorted. 'Well unless we are bringing other girls.'

The three girls didn't react to this; they were too scared to even look up at the men. But they did look up when a bell sounded throughout the house.

Louie pressed a button on his desk. 'Who is at the door?'

A voice came back clearly. 'It's the Gendarmerie, boss; they are searching for a man called Ryan and a couple of English girls.'

Louie looked up at Simon and nodded towards the panelled wall. 'Take the girls and hide in there,' he said. 'I will get rid of the police.'

Simon walked over to the wall, and took out a book, pressing a button behind it. The wall opened to reveal a dark cobwebbed space. 'In,' he ordered the girls.

'No Simon,' Jeanne said.

Simon grabbed at his sister's hair and dragged her to the space. 'This is my sister,' he said to the other two. 'If you think I will treat you any better than her, then you are mistaken. Get in the space.'

'They hurried in.'

'I will come and get you once it is safe,' Louie said. 'Or join you if it isn't and we will make our escape with our goods.'

They walked down the dark corridor, Simon and the three girls. Alana kept stumbling over rocks, steadying herself on the wall that was wet. The only light from a flickering torch that Simon held. Enough to show him the way and to make sure they didn't try to run. Though Alana didn't know where she'd run too. The way was blocked back into the house.

After about a half an hour, the corridor widened, Simon's torch making shadows on the walls. A bit further and they could see a light up ahead that they quickly realised was sunlight. But he didn't let them outside. Made sure they were tied anew before he went to have a look around.

When he came back he had a frown on his face. 'Those French police are swarming all over the house.'

A noise came from the tunnel they had just been in. Louie appeared.

'What's happening?' Simon asked.

The Gendarmerie came looking for you. Her parents told them where I live,' he pointed at Alana. 'I told them I hadn't seen you since that party but they still wanted to have a look around. I knew then that the game was up, that the girls would be found and I had to escape. So I told them they could look around and as soon as they left, I opened the secret door and came down here.'

'Damn,' Simon swore.

'You took too many risks getting Alana and now everything is lost. My home, my money, the girls. We only have these three and the money I have in my pocket.'

'Well we need to make sure that we get as much as we can for them then don't we? And I've got a few bank accounts in other names that have a sizeable amount in. If we can get away from this area, then I could go and get some of it out.'

'Then we need to get away as quickly as we can because once they realise I have disappeared but not seemingly left the house, they will start looking for the secret passage. Plus they will start searching the countryside.'

'But where are we going to go?'

'Ah, I have my little black book with all the details of our clients in it. Phone numbers, addresses, we'll head to where we were going to go, just not in so much style. We will have to steal a car or van.'

Dragged through the French countryside, their legs free, but their hands tied behind their backs and to each other. Each girl had a gag over her mouth and had been warned that if they made too much noise that they would be punished.

Alana didn't deliberately trip on the tree root; they have been dragging her along so fast that she hadn't seen it. She'd fallen to the ground, taking the branch of a tree with her that snapped with her weight. The wood echoed with the sound of its break. Birds rose through the air, squawking their unhappiness.

'Stupid girl,' Simon said his face white with fear and anger. He raised his fist and brought it down to her face.

Alana felt like her brain had been knocked out of her head. She heard her teeth rattle and felt her nose snap like the branch. Tears stung in her eyes flowing down her cheeks where they mixed with blood from her nose. It dripped down over her jumper.

'I thought the plan was that they shouldn't be marked,' Louie hissed. 'You won't make too much from her now.'

Simon shrugged his shoulders. 'She made me angry, and anyway, whatever we can get for them will do. We just need to get away from here and then once we've offloaded these girls and made some money, start again.'

Alana tried to blot the blood with the sleeve of her jumper. It felt like he'd thrust her nose into her brain.

'Are you alright?' Jeanne asked. 'My brother is a pig.' She tried stepped closer but Simon hit her too, not as hard as he had to Alana but enough to make her cower from him.

'Come on,' he grunted and started to drag them along, faster now.

Alana continued to stumble, she nearly fell a few times but Simon was making them move so fast that she had no time to fall. She could feel her nose swelling, and taste the coppery taste of blood in her mouth.

When they had been walking for some time, hearing the sound of dogs in the background as the French police searched for them, they came to a small road that led to a farm. Thinking they might find something advantageous there, they headed off it that direction.

'You never know,' Simon grinned. 'We might find a lonely little girl waiting for us there.'

There was smoke coming out of the chimney of the house, and as they crept closer they could hear singing and smell the aroma of baking bread.

Alana watched as Simon slipped inside, all the time wishing she could warn the people within. Soon, she heard a woman scream.

'Your brother really is the best,' Louie snorted and started to drag them towards the farmhouse.

Pushed into the house, Alana saw a little woman, whose long grey hair was falling out of a bun around her shoulders. She had a smudge of flour on her cheek and was crying.

'Shut up,' Simon banged his fist on the table, sending up a cloud of flour.

The woman stared at his hand and gulped. Then she nodded her head.

'Do you live here alone?' Simon asked. 'Is anyone upstairs?'

The woman shook her head. 'Je ne vous comprends pas,' she said in a terrified voice.

Simon looked at Louie. 'What did the old bat say?'

'She said she doesn't understand you. He probably only speaks French.'

'Well you ask her then. Ask her if she lives alone and if there is anyone upstairs.'

'Seul vivez-vous ici?' Louie asked. 'Est-ce que n'importe qui est en haut?'

She nodded her head. 'Mon mari est entré dans la ville mais il sera de retour bientôt.'

'What did she say?' Simon said in an irritated voice.

'She said that her husband has gone into town but he will be back soon.'

'Well we need to get what we need and move again,' Simon looked towards the woman. 'Ask her...'

A spark of stubbornness lit up the woman's eyes. 'Mon mari est un grand homme, il vous punira pour ceci.'

'What?'

Louie sighed. 'She says her husband is a big man and will punish us.'

'Is that so?' Simon smirked. Then he leant down low so his face was level with the woman's. 'I will kill your husnband,' he told her.

The woman hadn't understood what Simon had said, but it wasn't hard to see the malevolence in his eyes and know that he would harm her beloved. So she spat over his face.

'Dirty cow,' Simon seethed, grabbing a nearby tea towel and wiping his face. 'Dirty flipping cow.' He raised his fist to hit her.

'We haven't got time,' Louie said. He'd found some food in the cupboards and was putting them into bags along with a can opener to opened the tins. 'Leave her alone, she's an old woman.'

Simon grunted and walked away for the first time revealing the three girls who stood at the doorway to the woman.

'Qu'avez-vous fait à ces filles?' she asked, touching her face and staring at Alana's. She tried to stand up but Simon stamped back over to her and pushed her down.

'Ask her if she has a car,' he said to Louie.

'Vous faites prendre une voiture ici?'

The woman nodded her head and waved in the direction of a barn they'd walked passed.

'I will go and have a look,' Simon said, dragging the three girls into the centre of the room before he went. 'I will be back in a few minutes.'

Louie grabbed a towel and put it under the tap. Then he threw it to Alana. 'Wash your face,' he said. 'You've got dried blood all over it.'

By the time that Alana was a bit cleaner, though still in pain, Simon had returned. 'There's an old Peugeot in the barn. We can use that to get away.' He grinned and then pulled something out of his pockets. 'And look what I found.'

Alana blinked as she stared at the two guns he held in his hands.

'That old French farmer has a whole cache of them. I found two shotguns; put them in the car along with a couple of pistols and ammunition. These ones are mine now.' He waved them around.

'Faites attention,' the woman gasped.

Simon pointed one of the guns at her. He glanced at Louie. 'shall I shoot her?'

Louie shrugged his shoulders. 'If she is dead, she can't tell them what direction we went' he said.

Simon grinned. He aimed the fun towards the woman, pulling back and released the slide mechanism and fired.

'Dieu m'aident,' the woman screamed, doing the sign of the cross over herself. The bullet whizzed towards her.

They drove in the car for miles. Eventually Alana fell asleep and dreamt about the French woman, she saw the bullet flying towards her again, but in slow motion. The woman's look of horror. And how she had jumped out of the way, agile despite her age. She remembered the blood that had poured out of the woman's arm and how she had laid on the floor, still. Not moving. And then she remembered how Simon had grabbed her and the other two girls, dragged her outside to a barn, and stuffed them into a car. And as she woke up, she remembered the look of anger that had passed over the features of the man followed by fear as he started running to the house.

She opened her eyes to see trees rushing passed them. She glanced over and saw that Jeanne and Bianca were asleep. She closed her eyes quickly before the two men could realise that she was awake. That way she could eavesdrop on them.

'So where are we going?' Simon asked. 'The Gendarmerie are sure to put road blocks up soon.'

'Yeah, I thought of that. That's why I'm heading for Carry-le-Rouet, a little fishing town I used to go to as a child on holiday. We'll be able to get a boat there and travel over to Sardinia, going from there to Tunisia where we should find buyers for those three.'

'Good. We just have to get there now.'

Alana stored all this information up, so that if she managed to find a way, she could inform the authorities where they were being taken.

Alana drifted off to sleep again, partly because the sound of the car's engine lulled her there but also because she was finding her dreams to be a refuge from the two men.

She dreamt of the woman again, the blonde haired one that looked like her, but she was younger than the last time she had seen her. She wasn't wearing the same clothes either, more of an animal skin, tied around her. She was putting willow branches and leaves over a big hole in the ground that she had dug. Water filled it, so she tried to bail it out, just making herself muddy. But the hole didn't look like it was there.

Alana watched as the woman walked away, with a yellow horse and headed for a river where she washed the mud off. Then she settled down for the night, in her camp, of sorts. She made herself some hot tea, ate what looked like grain cakes and then set up a hide tent that she crawled into.

Alana watched as stars twinkled in the sky as the woman slept, but then her dream shifted, not to somewhere else but just over the land to where a lioness was licking two lion cubs clean. A male lion sat nearby by a reindeer bunk he had dragged into the cave. He batted one of the lion cubs away from it, and then roared.

The dream whizzed back to the woman, who was warily looking around, while her horse snickered nervously. There was a faint glow in the eastern sky and the woman started to get ready for her day. By the time the sun was turning the sky a rosy glow, she was packed and ready to go, a spear in her hand.

She rode back to near the hole and then watched as the herd came along. A few sniffed suspiciously at it. Alana could see the frown on the woman's face. And then she heard her shout and saw the horse, with the woman riding on top, galloping towards the herd.

The animals scattered, nervously trying to get away from the noise and the danger.

Alana saw her run to the hole once the animals were gone; she saw the buck that was languishing at the bottom and the woman as she pulled back her arm and killed it with her spear. Then she jumped back on the horse and went riding off.

Alana would have frowned if she could but as it was a dream she couldn't. She was wondering what the woman would do if when she came back, the lion had laid claim to the kill.

But it didn't matter because the woman came back straight away. She jumped off the horse and pulled the spear out of the buck's neck. With the horse's help, she pulled the animal out of the hole, and after preparing the meat, put it on a travois.

It was then she found the trampled lion cub.

Alana woke up with a start, looking around nervously; she half expected to see a herd of deer chased by a woman on a horse and an injured baby lion.

But what she saw was the two men, the kidnappers, in the front of the car.

'I need the toilet,' Jeanne said next to her.

'Tough,' Simon responded to his sister.

'We should stop,' Louie said, already slowing the car. 'We don't want the smell of urine in the car do we? She can go behind a tree.'

'Fine,' Simon scowled. 'But you can watch her; I'll stay here with the lovely Alana and Bianca.'

'Actually I need to go too,' Bianca said.

Simon sighed. 'Fine, but no funny tricks.' He looked at Alana. 'I suppose you need to go too?'

She didn't, but her legs were cramped and she wanted to stretch them, she also hoped there would be a way she could escape from them. She nodded her head.

'Come on then,' Simon growled. 'But remember, no funny business.

They got out of the car, the three girls still tied together. Out of the corner of her eye, Alana thought she saw something or someone nearby and hoped that if it was a person, that they would rescue them. They were led to some trees, told to squat behind them.

Alana heard a bush rustle nearby. She looked over towards it.

Simon grabbed her hair. 'You need to hurry, have a wee now.'

Alana looked at the ground and then back at Simon. 'I don't need one,' she said.

'What?' he screamed. 'You lied to me?' He raised his arm, ready to punch her in the face again.

A streak of golden fur burst out of the trees, heading for them. It butted into Simon, knocking him down and putting a paw on his chest.

'Llllion,' he stammered, a puddle forming around his bottom and staining his pants.

It was the biggest lion she had ever seen, totally wild, and fierce. It stuck its claws into Simon's stomach and roared. Strangely though, she didn't feel scared.

Louie came hurrying after but stopped when he saw the lion crouched over Simon. He turned and ran, bashing his face into a tree.

The lion jumped off Simon, and batted his arm with its paw.

Trembling, Simon stood up and ran for the car.

But Louie was running there too, and they managed to stumble over each other. Finally they were safe behind a closed car door.

'What's going on?' Jeanne asked. 'What is my monster of a brother on about? Lion?' she snorted with laughter.

Alana looked towards her, and saw that Bianca was looking confused too. She was about to say something but then she saw he lion moving, towards a man. The man from her dreams.

'It's you,' she said, walking over to him. She could see the scars on his legs and arms, around his head. 'Are you...'

'My precious child,' he said.

His voice seemed to sing within her heart.

The man ran his fingers through the thick fur of the lion. 'I sent the lion to rescue you. I couldn't see one of my creation treated so, much less three. It grieves my heart when anyone is hurt or treated so.' He looked towards the car. 'Or when they go out of their way to hurt others.' He sighed. 'You are free now, and the lion to guard you for a time before it goes back to where it belongs. You need to get moving away from here, for those two men will come looking for you as soon as the lion is gone.'

He started to fade. 'Who are you?'

He smiled. 'You know who I am already. I am he that loves you and has loved your family since the beginning of time.'

He faded into nothing and Alana turned around.

'What's going on Alana?' Jeanne asked. 'Who were you talking to?'

'And what were they on about, a lion?' Bianca added.

Alana smiled. 'It isn't important but what is important is that we are free. We need to get away from this area.'

They hurried into the woods, three girls with no belongings, no way of staying alive but what they knew.

The lion followed like, a shadow in the darkening night.

The man had made their ropes fall off so Alana was finally able to stretch her limbs as she had wanted. And she did stretch them, for they walked and walked and walked. Looking around regularly to make sure that Simon and Louie weren't coming, they just saw trees.

Except Alana, every so often she saw a flash of fur, or heard a low growl'

'Where are we going?' Bianca cried. 'We'll get lost in here.'

'No we won't,' Jeanne responded. 'My mother taught me how to travel naturally; I can get us through the wood safely. At the moment, we are travelling due north, going back the way we came.'

'But won't Simon be able to find us then?' Alana asked. 'Does he know how to track people?'

Jeanne laughed. 'Him? He's useless outside. She taught me, but he was never interested. Too busy hurting things. I remember as a child hiding from him for hours, he could never find me. Now we have got away from him, I mean to make sure that he doesn't catch us again.'

Bianca stopped for a moment and crouched down on the ground.

'Come on,' Alana said, marching towards her to try to hurry her up. 'We have to get as far away from them as we can.'

'And we will manage that much better with some food in our stomachs,' she countered, pointing at some berries growing by a tree.

'Are you sure they are okay?'

Bianca smiled. 'of course I'm sure, I've picked enough in my life plus as I was training to be a herbalist I know what plants are good for you and which are not, which will make you ill, and which will poison you. These are raspberries and definitely good to eat.' She popped one in her mouth, and closed her eyes as she savoured the juice flowing over her tongue and down her throat.

They picked loads, eating them straight away and more that they put in a makeshift bag made out of Alana's jumper. Bianca also took some of the leaves saying that they were good for treating wounds. 'If we get somewhere safe where we can have a fire, then I could make a wash to clean your nose.'

Alana blinked. She'd stopped thinking about her nose, but now she did, she realised that it did still hurt. Not as much as it had after Simon had hit her but still enough. She'd tried to clean the blood off but it would be good to make sure it was as clean as it could be until they were able to get to a hospital and get medicinal treatment for it.

'Plus any of us could get hurt, and we might need something to clean the wound straight away, especially if it is bad.'

From that time on, with Jeanne leading them through the woods and hiding their tracks and Bianca picking plants and stuffing them in her pockets, Alana felt that she needed a role in their friendship. Her knowledge of was nursing dependant on bandages and antiseptic so she started to tell them stories, something she had been really fond of since a young child, and even more so since she'd been having the dreams. She did it to keep their morale up. She told them about a girl who lived when the mammoths were dying and another who had to flee a volcano. About a girl who had survived a massacre and another one who had been tortured when she was accused of being a witch.

Finally when they could walk no further, they came to a little hut in the wood. By then, they were pretty certain that they had travelled some way from Simon and Louie and as Alana still noticed the lion sometimes, she knew they ewer safe.

It seemed there was no one at home, there was no smoke coming out of the chimney and when they went in, there was no fire, only long cold ash. There was a thin layer of dust over a table and on the floor, and the walls and windows were dirty. It was only a one room house, more of a hut really. In the far corner was a double bed that was covered by dusty sheets and blankets. Alana knew that because when she sat on it, she choked on a cloud of dust.

'I think this place is abandoned,' Jeanne said as she searched in the cupboard for food and cleaning products. There was both. She filled a bucket with water from an outside pump and started to clean the floor, while Bianca cleaned all the surfaces.

Alana took the bedding outside and have it a really good beating with a stick she found, getting rid of all the dust. When she went back inside, the place smelled better because Jeanne had found a bottle of bleach and the two of them had used it to sanitise the place.

And Bianca was making a fire in the hearth, with chopped logs she had found outside.

The sun was rising now and shining through the windows as it probably hadn't for a long time.

They ate some of their raspberries but still feeling hungry, opened some cans they had found, hoping that some day they would be able to replace them.

'I really don't think anyone lives here anyway,' Bianca said. 'Surely if they did, it wouldn't have gotten so dirty.'

They agreed and didn't feel too guilty about eating the tinned meat stew.

Finally the fell together on the bed exhausted and fell asleep, while the fire burnt merrily away, warming the room on that cold December day.

'What are you doing in here?' a man shouted.

Alana, shocked out of her sleep, bolted up into a sitting position and blearily stared at the source of the voice.

'This is my cabin,' the man ranted. He had blond hair and freckles on his face. At the moment though, they were hardly visible underneath the redness of his skin that was stark against his hair. 'What are you doing in my cabin? And eating my food too.' He flung a hand to indicate where dirty plates still sat on the table along with the pan they'd heated the stew up in. The cans on the side.

'I, I, I'm sorry,' Alana stammered, putting her arm around Bianca who had started to cry. 'We didn't think anyone lived here.'

'Well someone does, me,' he stabbed his chest with his finger. 'This is my cabin, my place to be alone. I don't expect people to just come in and make themselves at home like they own it.'

'I'm sorry,' she pulled back the blanket and got out of bed. 'I'm really sorry.'

'Get out,' he screamed. 'This is my place.'

'But we haven't got anywhere else to go,' Jeanne said and then started crying.

Alana herself could feel tears prickling on her eyelids.

'Where are we supposed to go,' Bianca said in a timid voice. 'We don't even know where we are.'

'Where you are?' The man stared at the girl. 'What do you mean you don't know where you are?'

'Because we don't,' Alana wailed, the tears now starting to fall down her cheeks. 'We don't know where we are, we don't know who you are, and we don't even know what day it is.'

The man sat down on a chair. 'How can you not know that its Christmas day?'

'Christmas day?' Alana's chin started to wobble. 'It's Christmas?'

'Well, yeah,' the man said, astounded that anyone wouldn't know it was Christmas.

'My parents must be so scared for me,' Alana said.

'At least you have parents,' Jeanne moaned. 'I remember last Christmas with my parents; I'll never have another one with them, because of Simon.'

'Simon?' the man frowned. 'Whose Simon?'

'Her brother,' Alana grimaced. 'And until yesterday, one of our captors.'

'What?'

'He and his colleague have been kidnapping girls and women, trading in them. They were taking us somewhere to sell us, Tunisia I think, when we managed to get away from them.' She looked around, towards the windows and the door. 'They are probably looking for us, we should get moving again.' She bent down to put her shoes on.

The other two girls got out of the bed and did the same.

'We really are sorry for using your cabin,' Alana said, standing in front of the sitting man. 'If you give me your details, when we get home,' she gulped. 'If we get home, we will send you some money to pay for it all.' She started to walk towards the door.

'Wait,' the man said. 'I'm sorry about shouting at you. I was just shocked to find three girls here. But you can't go, not if what you've told me is true. Look, I don't live in this cabin, I just come here to fish and think but I've left my car about a mile from here. I can get you to safety. Take you to the Gendarmerie.'

'I don't know,' Alana looked nervously at him.

'Look, I know you're scared and to trust someone must be hard, especially a man, but I won't harm you, I promise. I want to help you.' He smiled; a hopeful smile that seemed to show no malice or evil thoughts behind it.

'Okay,' Alana sighed. She looked at Jeanne and Bianca. 'What do you think?'

They nodded their heads.

She looked back at the man. 'I guess the answer is yes.' She smiled.

'Good,' he looked around the room. 'I think you should have something to eat before we go. You three, sit down. I will make it.' He picked up a bag by the door. 'My supplies,' he lifted it up onto the counter and pulled out some packages.

Alana stared as she saw eggs, and butter. A bottle of long life milk and a loaf of bread. There was also a pot of strawberry jam and another of peanut butter. And bacon. She sniffed the air as he started to cook.

'So what are the names of my visitors?' he asked as he cut thick slices of bread and spread butter on them. 'I should know who it is who I am cooking breakfast for.' He grinned. 'My name is Frederic, though most call me Fred.'

They quickly told him their names.

'Now,' he put down four plates of bacon and eggs, another of bread and butter and a jug of milk. 'Won't you tell me how you came to be in my little cabin?'

After they had eaten breakfast, and the girls had told their story, they started out for the car. Unfortunately the cabin was actually near the base of a cliff and the only easy way, and quick, was to walk up the path that meandered backwards and forwards until the top.

Alana had felt like bursting into tears again when she had seen it, but when Fred pointed out the path, she didn't feel so bad. At least they didn't have a sheer cliff to climb.

Even though they had to be careful, picking their way over the sometimes narrow path. Cracks and rubble in some parts of it, meant they had to travel quite slowly and as the morning moved on, the midday sun settle on them, starting to burn.

'I am so tired,' Bianca said, wiping sweat from her brow.

'We're nearly there,' Fred said as he looked up the cliff, another half an hour and we should be at the top and then we only have a small walk to the car.' He handed her a water bottle.

'Thanks,' she took the bottle of him, and gulped mouthful down.

Then she passed it to Alana who was also looking the worse for wear who passed it to Jeanne once she'd had some.

They kept on walking. In one place they had to inch around a rock that jutted out, rocks falling as they timidly curved their bodies around it.

But finally they got to the top. Laying down, they panted with exhaustion, trying to catch their breath and then each had another sip of water.

'Well, well, well. Look, who it is,' a voice said over them, and Alana was dragged to her feet.

'Simon,' she hissed.

'Hello pretty Alana, did you think you had got away from us?' He gripped her arm tight and pushed it up behind her back.

'Ohhhhhhh,' she screamed.

'You thought you'd got the better of us didn't you? What are you anyway? A witch?'

Tears were pouring out of her eyes with pain, she didn't answer.

'Leave her alone,' Fred shouted, trying to stand up but receiving the but of a shot gun to his face for his troubles.

'Stay down,' Louie said. He pointed the gun at Fred, and then at Jeanne and Bianca.

'Tie them up,' Simon said, tossing Louie a rope, though he didn't stop pushing on Alana's arm.

Alana watched as Louie tied them up.

'Me and Alana are going to go for a little walk,' Simon said to Louie.

'What? Why?'

Simon laughed; a horrible evil sound. 'To have a little fun.'

'But I thought we weren't going to touch them. If they aren't virgins we won't get so much for them.'

'Louie, let's be honest with ourselves. After the witch here did her little stunt, we are never going to get them out of the country. There are sure to be loads of road blocks up by now. I say we cut our losses, deal with them and then travel separately to Tunisia. By now they are sure to be looking for two men with three women, not individual men. We can start our business up again there, lay low for a while, don't come to Europe and eventually we will manage to get back the money that this witch cost us. In the meantime I mean to make her pay.'

'But what about these three,' Louie asked about Fred and the two other girls.

'I don't know, do what you want. Shoot them for all I care.'

'Jeanne is your sister,' Alana managed to say.

'She is no sister of mine,' Simon said. 'Her mother was a whore who stole my father away from my mother.'

'That's not true,' Jeanne said.

'How would you know? I was young when she died, but I remember what happened. I remember how she was so upset about losing my father that she took her life. So why should I care about you?' He looked at Louie. 'Make sure you shoot the whore's child first.' And with that, he dragged Alana away, further along the cliff until they couldn't see the others.

Alana struggled against him. 'Leave me alone,' she screamed.

'I don't think so,' he sneered. 'I won't leave you alone until you are dead.' He chuckled and pulled her closer. 'Kiss me Alana. You wanted to marry me. So kiss me.'

'No,' she screamed. 'Leave me alone.' She spat in his face.

'Witch,' he yelled, smacking her across the face.

'Leave me alone,' she shrieked, pushing him as hard as she could.

He lurched backwards, towards the cliff edge. For a second he tottered there, but then a stone moved under his feet and he fell. Backwards, over the edge.

Alana heard the sound of his body falling, hitting rocks, and the sound of rocks falling down with him. She crept forward, on her knees, looked over the edge and saw him on a top of jutting rock, the one they had had to get around earlier. But there was no way he would be able to get down onto the pathway from it, it was too high. He was trapped. She saw him moving, and could just make out the sound of him groaning.

'I'll send the police to rescue you,' she shouted out to him, starting to giggle as she realised how close she had come to losing her life.

'Alana,' a voice shouted.

She turned to see Fred, Jeanne and Bianca running towards her.

'Are you alright Alana?' Fred asked as he reached her first.

'What? Yes, I'm fine but how did you get away from Louie.'

'He let us go. Seemed he had a stomach for the slave trade but not for killing like his mate. And talking of him, where is he?'

'He fell over the cliff, I think he's okay but he's trapped down there until the police come.' She giggled. 'So is Louie gone?'

'Yeah, he ran after untying us. Wanted to get away from Simon before he came back. But the Gendarmerie will still catch him; we'll give them a description of him. They'll stop him at a road block.'

Alana nodded her head and looked up at Fred. 'Can we go to your car now? I would like to get away from here.'

'Yeah, sure. Come on, let's get you all somewhere safer.'

It didn't take them long to get to the car, and they all piled in, Fred putting the heater on to warm them on their journey. The road was treacherous, icy, and a few times they skidded but eventually they arrived in a small town where they headed for the Gendarmerie office.

Soon Alana was passed a phone, and putting it to her ear, heard the ecstatic voices on her parents.

'Oh Alana, you are alright,' her mother sobbed.

'Mum, I'm okay,' Alana cried back at her.'

'We're just about to get in a car and will be with you in a few hours,' her father said.

'You're in France?'

'Yeah, we've been staying in the same area we had our holiday in. Though obviously it hasn't been fun, especially when they found the other girls but not you.'

'Are you alright? Is Chloe okay?'

'She will be. Her parents are over here too, and trying to give her as much support as they can. It's going to be a long road of recovery for her though. And for you.' Her mother shrieked hysterically.

'Mum,' Alana shouted. 'I'm alright, honest, I am. A bit beat up but nothing like Chloe. I was never touched; they wanted to sell me as a virgin.'

'So they never...' her mother didn't finish the sentence.

'No.'

'What do you mean by beat up?' her father asked. 'Did those monsters hurt you?'

'A bit dad, but not too much.' She touched her cheek ruefully. 'I'm looking forward to seeing you.'

'And us you love.'

'Bye mum, bye dad.'

'Bye love, see you in a little while.

Alana put down the phone.

A couple of hours later, she was reunited with her parents and after lots of tears and hugged, as well as questions from the Gendarmerie, they were allowed to go to a hotel, arranged free by the authorities to get some rest.

Now Alana stood by the window of her room, pressing her face up against the cold glass and watched the snow falling, turned faster, hit by the wind into a blizzard. It started to hit the window, pile up on the sill outside. The sky was growing dark even though it was only the afternoon still.

A cough came from her doorway and she looked around to see the female Gendarmerie liaison officer that had been assigned to them. She was stood next to Alana's mother.

'One of the men who kidnapped you has been found, trying to pass a road block in a stolen car,' the officer said

'Louie?'

The officer looked at a piece of paper and then up at her. 'Yes,' she responded.

'And Simon?'

The officer shook her head. 'We haven't found him.'

'Oh no, he's escaped,' Alana shrieked, looking around her as if she expected Simon to jump out at her.

Her mother ran over to her. 'How could you let him escape again?' she hissed at the officer.

'No, no, you misunderstand me. We haven't found him yet but that doesn't mean we won't find him. From what you said,' she looked at Alana. 'He was trapped on a rock, no way up or down, chances are he is still there. But, because of the blizzard, we have had to call the land searchers back in. It's too cold out there for them. The helicopter is still out there but it will be dark soon. With the weather conditions, if we don't find him soon, then we will be looking for a corpse.'

'Good,' her mother said. 'He deserves to be dead.'

'Well that may be so, but it would be much better if he is caught and made to face in a court of law up to his crimes.'

'Yes, it would be,' Alana agreed.

Something on the officer's belt beeped. She took out a mobile and looked at it. 'I've got to take this,' she said and left the room.

Alana's mother rubbed her daughter's back. 'They'll find him Alana,' she said. 'He will pay for his crimes.'

The officer came back. 'That was the Gendarmerie headquarters. They've found Simon, and are taking him to the hospital.'

'Hospital?'

'He sustained a broken leg from the fall but, the time he's spent on that rock today, in the cold, in the snow and then a blizzard. Well he was nearly frozen, especially his hands and feet and,' she cleared her throat. 'Another extremity. They think he's probably got third or fourth degree frostbite in them and will probably lose them.'

'Another extremity?' Alana looked at the officer feeling confused. 'Oh, you mean,' she giggled. 'You mean his...'

The officer nodded her head.

'Alana,' her mother called into the hotel room. 'Your rescuer, Fred. He would like to see you. Are you feeling up to it?'

Alana nodded her head, and a few minutes later Fred came in.

'How are you?' he asked, sitting down on a nearby wooden chair.

'I'm fine,' she sighed and then shuddered. 'I don't really want to talk about it all.'

'Oh, okay I'll go then,' he stood up.

'No, don't go. I would like to talk, but not about that. It's too painful yet. I know why don't you tell me about your cabin?'

'Ah, my cabin.' He smiled sadly. 'My parents used to take me to the cabin when I was a little boy. It has been in my father's family for generations. My grandmother used to say it was built to replace another cabin that was a replacement for another one, and another one. She said our family had been living there since the Stone Age.' He smiled. 'My father even showed me a cave that his granddad had told him our ancestors lived in back then.'

Alana's eyes lit up. 'Really?'

He shrugged his shoulders. 'Who knows? I think it's just a story but maybe. Anyway like I said my parents used to take me there when I was little, me and my siblings. As you might have realised by the fact that I didn't shout at you in French when I found you, I grew up speaking English, in fact I grew up in England, in a town in the North West of England called Lytham St. Annes.'

'Is that near Blackpool?'

'Yeah, spent some time going up the tower when I was younger. But anyway, back to the cabin. I had such memories from when I was little there. Every summer when school broke up, we'd go on holiday for the six weeks, to France. We'd visit my father's family for most of the time, but then we would spend a week or two at the cabin. Sometimes the whole family would come, even my dad's parents and us kids would sleep in tents and sometimes it would be just me and my dad. We'd just spend time together, talking, hiking. I learnt to climb that cliff face without the path, using ropes and safety gear. Sometimes we would fish, cleaning our catch and eating it in the evening.' He sighed.

'Sounds lovely.'

He grinned. 'Yes it was, a perfect time. One of the best in my life, but then everything changed. My father had an accident, couldn't walk anymore. We'd still visit his family in the summer but not the cabin. He couldn't get there, not down the cliff and not the long way around either, your route.'

'That's terrible.'

He nodded his head. 'And when I got to a certain age, I was more interested in girls than the cabin. I forgot about it. By the time I was sixteen I started refusing to even go to France in the holidays. I wanted to spend time with my girl. And I did. We got married just after my eighteen birthday and we settled into married life.'

'You're married?' Suddenly Alana felt upset, she had been starting to like this man and now, she knew he wasn't available.

He didn't answer her, just continued with his story. 'A year into our marriage, and she discovered she was pregnant. We were so excited. She started buying things for the baby, a Moses basket with white bedding edged with lemon embroidery for it to sleep in, blankets, sleep suits, tiny vests, booties and scratch mittens. When she found out we were having a girl, she started buying tiny little dresses, pink ones, flowery ones and small white shoes for when she was older. They had tiny little pearls on.' He sniffed.

Alana stiffened but didn't comment, she just kept on listening to him.

'We chose a pink pram, with little white teddies on it and she brought blankets to match. A sun canopy and a rain cover. And then she started to get ill. She was feeling tired all the time and her ankles and then her feet started to swell. She had an appointment at the local hospital, so I went with her, I would have gone anyway, but wanted to make sure they looked after her. It had been a hot summer and was a very hot day and sitting in the roasting waiting room, she started to feel worse. She fainted. Slumped in her chair. I shouted for help and immediately she was surrounded by midwives who wheeled her into a room. I grabbed my wife's belongings and hurried in after them. She was only unconscious for a few moments, as I entered the little cubicle, I could see her looking around, a confused look on her face. A midwife was helping her to sit up while another was taking her temperature. She'd been given a jug earlier to do a wee in, and I was holding it when I entered the room, I gave it to the worried looking midwife who had taken my wife's temperature and she took a stick out of a pot and stuck it in. A second later a third midwife ran in with a blood pressure machine and put it on her arm. She said my wife's blood pressure was really high, I can't remember what it was, but she immediately ran off and came back a few minutes with a doctor. The midwife who'd tested my wife's wee told him she had protein in her urine and had a very high temperature. I had watched all this with a degree of confusion myself, and only then did I realise I had my wife's notes in my hand. I gave them to the doctor who looked at them, and then at my wife's feet.'

'Pre-eclampsia,' Alana gasped.

Fred looked up at her. 'Yes, how do you...'

'I'm training to be a nurse, or at least I was. Before Simon kidnapped me, I was in the middle of a placement on a maternity ward.'

'Oh. Okay. Yes, they said she might have pre-eclampsia. They sent her up to a ward to get treatment but it didn't work and they said she needed to give birth straight away or her and the baby would die.' He brushed away a tear. 'She was only thirty four weeks pregnant and any other time would have argued with them, but she was too weak. I signed a form to allow a caesarean to be preformed. I wasn't allowed in the theatre, she had to be totally knocked out. I never saw her awake after that, she died of complications they said.'

'I'm so sorry.'

He nodded. 'Our little girl was so small when she was born. I could hardly bear to look at her first of all, and wasn't allowed to hold her she was too small. But I soon realised that she needed me, she didn't have a mummy, only me. My wife had given up her life for her, I had to look after her. I was allowed to visit as long as I wanted and eventually, after weeks, they allowed me to hold her. When she was allowed out of hospital I couldn't bear to live in Lytham St. Annes anymore. I moved to France, to live with my grandparents. She's three now, about to start Maternelle.'

'Maternelle?'

'Nursery.'

'Oh. Where is she now?'

'She's with her great grandparents, probably being filled with sweets and stories about the cabin.' He grinned but it was a watery one.

'So why were you at the cabin?'

'Like I said, I like to go there to think and fish. It reminds me of life when everything was easy. I don't really like leaving her too much but I recently decided that soon I would introduce her to the cabin and went there to mainly make sure it was clean. But of course you did that for me.'

Alana smiled.

'I wanted to come and see you before I went home. Make sure you are doing okay. I...'

'What?'

He sighed. 'Nothing. It doesn't matter.'

'It does to me.'

He reached out and took her hand. 'The last few weeks have been terrible for you, but I hope that one good thing has come out of it. I would like to be your friend.'

She squeezed his hand. 'And I yours.'

'Good,' he grinned. 'I'd better go.' He stood up and headed towards the door.

'Fred,' she called.

'What?' he looked eagerly at her.

'What's your daughter called?'

'Hope, her name is Hope.'

The Gendarmerie had a lot of work to do to prepare a case against Louie and Simon, plus the later was in hospital would be for some time. That being the case, Alana and the other girls were soon allowed to return home.

Bianca had never spoken of her parents, and there was a reason for that. They had died when she was very young. She'd been brought up by her grandmother but news had come to her while the Gendarmerie were still interviewing her, that her grandmother had died and her cottage re-rented. Bianca had no home to go to. So after going back to her village for the funeral, she moved into Alana's home.

Jeanne also had no parents; they had been murdered by her half brother, so she too moved into Alana's home.

It was like Alana's parents suddenly had three daughters instead of one.

Alana's home was quite big; the attic had long since been converted into a living space, two bedrooms with a bathroom. Bianca and Jeanne moved into those, while Alana kept her own bedroom.

The three girls sat in the conservatory, looking out at the white blanketed grass. It was New Year's Day now, two thousand and eight, and they were starting to think about their futures.

'Are you going to go back to nursing?' Bianca asked.

Alana sighed. 'I don't know, after everything that's happened, I just feel...'

'Weird,' Bianca and Jeanne said together.

'Yeah,' she sighed. 'Everything has changed. I missed the rest of my placement while everyone else completed theirs, I must be well behind by now.'

'But maybe not. You should phone one of your tutors and see. If you want to go back?'

'I do want to go back.' Alana closed her eyes for a moment, and then smiled. 'You are right, I will phone them tomorrow. Maybe they would let me complete my placement in the summer holidays.' She looked at the other two. 'What about you two?'

'Ah,' Bianca grinned. 'I've been talking to your dad. Do you know he's been suffering from some rheumatism recently? Anyway, I made him up a rub for it, which he said worked better than the one his doctor had given him. Well mine's not full of chemicals, but just natural stuff, I told him and he asked if I was going to continue with my Herbalism. So I got thinking, and I looked on the internet and found courses that I could do. They are in London so I would have to travel each day, but fifty miles is nothing. I applied to start a course this coming September. The woman I spoke to said considering my experience and the fact that I have good G.C.S.E.s and two A levels that I should have no trouble getting on it.' She giggled. 'I just need to learn to drive now, and I will have no trouble getting there.'

'And I bet you have already organised driving lessons?' Jeanne laughed.

Bianca's eyes gleamed. 'Yep, I phoned them up today. Got my first driving lesson tomorrow.'

'I'll give you some for free if you want,' Jeanne offered. 'And you too Alana, if you'd like to learn. I've had just passed my driving test when Simon kidnapped me. My dad used to give me lessons,' her eyes started to fill with tears.'

Alana put her arm around her and squeezed. Jeanne joined them, and together they spent the next few moments in silence.

It was Jeanne that broke it. 'I have decided what I want to do with my life,' she said.

The other two girls sat back down.

'I've applied to be a police woman. After all that's happened, I want to stop others doing what was done to us.'

'I thought you couldn't get in if you had a relative, who was a criminal,' Bianca said.

'Yes,' Jeanne mused. 'But that's got more to do with who you allow to be in your life. Whether you are corruptible. I spoke to a police woman and she said it shouldn't affect me just as though I stay away from him.' She shuddered. 'After what Simon did, I don't want to have anything to do with him again.'

And so they had all made plans for the future, not letting what had happened get in the way. They were all determined to be productive members of society,

Alana looked through the window once again. It was spring now, the snow long gone and daffodils were already blooming. She was waiting for her visitors, for Fred and his little daughter Hope who had phoned a few days ago and asked if they could come and visit.

The other girls had made themselves scarce, and her parents were in the back garden doing some gardening. After what had happened all three girls, were a bit nervous about being alone with a man but Fred understood this.

A car pulled up outside and she saw Fred get out. He walked around to the other side of the car, and lifted a small girl out. He looked up in her direction and waved.

Alana waved back and then let the curtain fall as she ran to the front door.

Alana pushed the baby swing that Fred's daughter Hope sat in, screaming with joy and kicking her legs as she flew through the air.

She'd been spending a lot of time with them while they were on holiday, and was starting to get a lot closer to him. Still her experience with Simon, who had pretended to be Ryan, made her nervous so they were never alone. They didn't go for a picnic in the countryside but at a park where there were loads of people. Alana's parents invited them around for a barbeque, or they'd babysit Hope while a group of them, Fred and Alana included, went to the pictures. So far she hadn't been alone with him, but he understood that it was too soon, and she had a lot of trust issues to overcome before she would feel confident again in a man's company.

But he was patient and enjoyed his time with her. Watching kids' TV during the day and a film on sky movies at night. Going swimming at the local sport centre. More picnics, barbeques and then it was time for Fred and Hope to go home.

But he phoned her, and they talked, for hours and hours, they shared their feelings, not so much about how they felt about each other but more about the experience they had shared, though Fred in truth didn't think he could start to understand the little bit he had experienced compared to what she'd had to put up with.

And now, in the month of July, he was back. Spending the summer holidays in England like he'd used to spend them in France when he was young.

So at the park, little Hope wriggled her legs as she felt the air rush through them on the swing. She screamed with excitement and laughed with joy.

'You are a natural with kids,' Fred smiled as he watched them.

Alana shrugged. 'She's a lovely child.'

He nodded his head.

'Fred,' she kept on pushing Hope on the swing but looked at him. 'My friend is getting married next month. I've been invited,' she giggled. 'Actually I'm a bridesmaid. Would you and Hope like to come with me?'

'I don't know.'

'Please? I introduced you to my friend Vicki when you were here in the spring. It's her wedding.'

'Okay then,' he grinned. 'We'd love to come.

But first there was something else to get out of the way. A case had been put together against Simon, and it was time for her to testify.

Trembling she stood outside court, a French court and she didn't know what to expect. But her friends held her hands, including Chloe who had put on weight and was doing a lot better now.

The four of them walked into court together, hand in hand. Fred walking after them.

One by one they were called up to give their statement and were questions by the prosecutors and Simon's defence team. This being a French court, the witness statements from those who were English was translated to French and vice versa. Eventually it was Alana's turn. She trembled as she walked up to the front of court and stood in the witness stand. Seeing Simon staring at her, as he sat in a wheelchair, she swallowed hard and then looked toward the judge.

A woman came forward, A Bible in her hands. She gave it to Alana. 'Do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? So help you God?'

'I do.'

The judge nodded his head. 'Your witness,' he said to the prosecution.

'Good afternoon Alana,' a man stepped forward as the interpreter translated his words.

She had spoken to him many times before so she smiled.

'Alana, in your own words, can you tell us how you first met the defendant.'

Alana started to tell how she had met him on holiday, how he had said he was called Ryan and was in haulage, how she had liked him immediately. She told them about the coach trip to Lascaux where he had asked her to wander off into the caves with him, and how he had taken her to a posh party where he had taken her into a maze. How her father had called her to come and she had. She said about all the phone calls that had passed between them, and how at every turn something always seemed to come between them being alone. Until he had taken her for a surprise that had ended with a needle in her arm and being kidnapped. She spoke on her disjointed memories after that and how they had arrived at the house of the party and she had been tied up. She explained how she had managed to untie herself and tried to escape but had met her friend Chloe, who had been kidnapped before her who told her the fence surrounding the house was a high enough voltage to kill and it had in the past. She spoke about the Gendarmerie coming to the house and the secret passageway Jeanne, Bianca and herself had been forced down. How they had been made to travel by foot away from the house, until they came to a farm. How Simon had shot at the old woman, tried to kill her and then stole the car, as well as guns. How she had heard that they intended to take them to Tunisia, to sell them there.

By the time she had got to that point she had tears pouring down her face. But she told them how they had got away, that a large cat had frightened the two men, she said that she thought it was God who had helped. How they had got to Fred's cabin, and the next morning he had helped them. How Louie and Simon had caught up with them, tied them up. Said that he didn't think they should sell them after all, that they should shoot them. How he had told Louie to shoot the other three, including his own sister. How he had taken her away from them, how he had said that he would kill her, but wanted her to kiss him first. And how she had pushed him away, how he had fallen.

'And you really think he would have killed you?' the prosecutor said.

'He'd killed his father and step mother, he'd told me he'd killed other girls and it is only luck that he didn't kill the old woman,' she nodded her head. 'Yes, I thought he was going to kill me, rape me and then kill me.'

'Members of the jury,' the prosecutor said. 'Alana here was mistreated by the defendant. She had a broken nose when she managed to get to safely because of him. I set before you, that he was, and is, a very dangerous man.'

He sat down.

Another man rose now, he pulled the collar of his jacket a bit, like it was straggling him and walked forwards.

'We have heard from the witness today that she pushed my client, that she is to blame for his injuries. For attempted murder. Are we really going to believe the words of someone how would do that?'

'I didn't mean to...'

'Whether you meant to or not, my client still sits in a wheelchair. He can no longer walk because of the frostbite he suffered, that turned to gangrene. He lost his feet, and his hands, so others have to feed him. He will never have a normal relationship again because of this young woman who stands here.'

The judge banged his hammer. 'The witness is not on trial.'

'Well maybe she should be. She has ruined this young man's life.'

'Supposition your honour,' the prosecution said.

'I agree,' the judge said. 'If you have no questions for the witness about what actually happened, then you can sit down.'

'Okay,' the defence lawyer said. 'Alana, you got to know Simon, you liked him. Isn't the truth that you went with him to France and then got scared about commitment and made up this lie that you got others to tell too?'

'No,' she shrieked.

'And isn't it true that you and your friends then persecuted this young man, culminating with violently pushing him off a cliff and then leaving him there to die.'

'No, we didn't persecute him, he persecuted us. Was going to sell us.'

'Come come, Alana, you really expect the intelligent men and women of the jury to believe that he was going to sell you? What next? That you were abducted by aliens?' He chortled at his joke.

'No, I mean yes, oh I don't know. It's true, all of it.'

'But you just said you don't know,' the defence lawyer grinned. 'You don't know the truth of what happened, or you are perverting it.'

'I know what happened,' she said coldly. 'He kidnapped me, he kidnapped others, and he was going to sell us.'

'Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,' the defence lawyer turned his back on her. 'Are you really going to trust the word of someone who can so easily get confused? Someone who would push someone off a cliff and leave them to die. I say to you, that my client is the victim in all this, not this girl here, this criminal who could have killed him.' He sat down.

'Strike that last sentence from the record,' the judge said. 'And jury members I want you to disregard it. The witness is not on trial here.'

Over the next few days, many other witnesses testified but finally the time came for the jury to deliberate on a verdict.

Alana sat in the corridor first thing in the morning waiting for the jury to come back in. They had been talking about the case for the last day, and were expected to come back at any time.

'What if they let him off?' she trembled as she held Fred's hand. 'He might come after me. Or he might just go to another county and start all over again. That was his plan when he caught up with us at the top of the cliff.'

'Yes, I remember. But I'm sure that he won't get away with it. There is too much evidence against him, and Louie has already been sent down.'

There was a noise outside, and voices floated into the building.

'Simon, do you intend to sue the girl who pushed you off the cliff after the end of this case?'

'Yes,' came the voice of Simon.

'Simon, why do you think that so many girls have come forward to accuse you of kidnapping?'

'I don't know.'

'Simon, how did you manage to raise the bale money?'

'No comment.'

'Simon, is it true that you got frostbite elsewhere that your feet and hands and no longer have any manly equipment.'

'No comment.'

Alana turned to smile at Fred.

'Sounds painful,' he grinned back at her.

The jury was back in. The representative of the group stood to tell everyone what they had decided.

'To the charge of kidnapping and false imprisonment,' the judge said to the woman. 'Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?'

'Guilty your honour.'

'To the charge of murder, do you find the defendant gutty or not guilty?'

'Guilty your honour.'

'To the charge of attempted murder, do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?'

'Guilty your honour.'

'To the charge of false statement to the English police on the disappearance of Chloe Hiller, do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?'

'Guilty your honour.'

'To the charge of rape and sexual abuse, do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?'

'Guilty your honour.'

'To the charge of grievous bodily harm and actual bodily harm, do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?'

'Guilty your honour.'

'To the charge of theft of a motorcar, do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty'

'Guilty your honour.'

And so it went on, Simon was found guilty of every charge. Finally he sat in his wheelchair before the judge.

'You are a very evil man, and though you have suffered because of your crimes, I can't let you off them. In times gone past, your crimes would have warranted the death sentence but French law states I can only give you a sentence up to thirty years before you will be considered for parole. But I am not happy with that, I think that even in your current condition, you could do a lot to hurt a lot of people still. Therefore I have decided I will give you thirty years for the murders of your father and step mother. Fifteen years for kidnapping and rape. Ten years for attempted murder and five years for everything else. In total I sentence you to serve ninety years in prison, with the possibility of parole after thirty years.'

The summer sun shone down on the head of Alana as she walked into the Church behind one of her best friends Vicki. She was dressed in a turquoise full length dress, with a wide skirt and bodice. The straps of the dress were encrusted with white stones as was the top of the dress. Little star like shapes were shattered over the skirt. Her hair was piled on top of her head and she was wearing turquoise blue shoes.

Chloe walked next to Alana, wearing nearly the same dress, though the white stones were in different places.

The bride, Vicki, was wearing a traditional white dress, though her stomach was starting to strain against the front of it. It was decorated with the white stones too, and so was her curled hair. She was holding a bouquet of summer flowers.

As they reached the front of the Church, Vicki handed her bouquet to Alana and then turned back to look at her husband to be.

'Welcome,' the vicar said at the front of Church. 'The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.'

'And also with you,' some of the congregation said.

'God is love, and those who live in love live in God and God lives in them,' he continued. '1 John 4.16.'

'God of wonder and of joy: grace comes from you,' the congregation started to say, holding up the order of service for the words. 'And you alone are the source of life and love.'

Someone passed an order of service to Alana, she turned to take it and saw the twinkling eyes of Fred.

'Thanks,' she whispered. Then she started reading the words. 'Without you, we cannot please you; without your love, our deeds are worth nothing. Send your Holy Spirit, and pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of love, that we may worship you now with thankful hearts and serve you always with willing minds; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.'

'In the presence of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we have come together to witness the marriage of Michael and Victoria, to pray for God's blessing on them, to share their joy and to celebrate their love. Marriage is a gift of God in creation through which husband and wife may know the grace of God. It is given that as man and woman grow together in love and trust,

They shall be united with one another in heart, body and mind, as Christ is united with his bride, the Church. The gift of marriage brings husband and wife together in the delight and tenderness of sexual union and joyful commitment to the end of their lives. It is given as the foundation of family life in which children are born and nurtured and in which each member of the family, in good times and in bad, may find strength, companionship and comfort, and grow to maturity in love.' The vicar took a breath and smiled.

'Marriage is a way of life made holy by God, and blessed by the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ with those celebrating a wedding at Cana in Galilee. Marriage is a sign of unity and loyalty which all should uphold and honour. It enriches society and strengthens community.

No one should enter into it lightly or selfishly but reverently and responsibly in the sight of almighty God. Michael and Victoria are now to enter this way of life. They will each give their consent to the other and make solemn vows, and in token of this they will give and receive a ring.

We pray with them that the Holy Spirit will guide and strengthen them, that they may fulfil God's purposes for the whole of their earthly life together.'

'First, I am required to ask anyone present who knows a reason why these persons may not lawfully marry, to declare it now.' The vicar waiting to see if anyone would stand or shout out. Then he nodded and smiled at the couple in front of him. 'The vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence of God, who is judge of all and knows all the secrets of our hearts;

Therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.'

Vicki and Mike both shook their heads.

'Michael, will you take Victoria to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?'

'I will.'

'Victoria, will you take Michael to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?'

'I will.'

'Will you, the families and friends of Michael and Victoria, support and uphold them in their marriage now and in the years to come?'

'We will.'

'God our Father, from the beginning you have blessed creation with abundant life. Pour out your blessings upon Michael and Victoria, that they may be joined in mutual love and companionship,

in holiness and commitment to each other. We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ your Son,

who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.'

'Amen.'

The vows were said, and then they were declared to be man and wife. Alana gave the bouquet back to Vicki as she walked out of the Church to the sound of the wedding march. Alana followed after them, happy but aching to sit down.

After the photos were done, both official and unofficial, with mobiles, they moved into the church hall that had been hired for the reception. Alana sat on the top table, next to Michael's best man, making small talk to him but her eyes kept moving back to Fred.

Vicki saw this, and as soon as the speeches were over, she leant around to Alana ad said. 'Go and get him. You don't have to stay here, go on.'

Alana immediately stood up, straightened the skirt of her dress and walked over to the table where Fred and Hope sat.

'Hello Lana,' Hope said, cream all over her face.

'Hello Hope, are you having fun?' She picked up a serviette and wiped the child's face.

'Yes Lana.' She put out her hand to her. 'Hug Lana.'

Alana quickly wiped Hope's hands and then picked her up. 'You are getting to be a big girl,' she grinned.

'Love you Lana.'

'And I love you too Hope,' she responded.

'Down, down,' Hope said. 'Me want more staberries and crem.' She pointed at her bowl.

Alana grinned and put her back on her hair. 'I think she likes them,' she said to Fred, feeling a bit shy.

He nodded his head.

She sat down next to him. 'Are you having fun too?' she asked.

'I am now,' he said, gazing at her. 'You look beautiful Alana.'

'Thank you,' she blushed.

'I wanted to ask...'

They were suddenly interrupted by Vicki. 'Can all the ladies get together? I'm going to throw the bouquet.'

'You'd better go,' Fred grinned. 'You might catch it.'

She shook her head. 'Who'd want to marry me?'

'Ah,' he said, about to answer but she was already heading to where a group of women, both old and young were gathered.

Vicki had her back to them, and threw just as Alana got to the group. The flowers flew through the air, bounces of some raised finger tips and into Alana's hands.

Vicki turned around, and clapped when she saw who was holding the bouquet. 'Alana will get married next,' she said.

Alana blushed again but then felt someone brush against her. She turned and saw Fred, carrying Hope. He had something in his free hand. Standing in front of her, he bent to one knee, making Hope giggle. He held out a small box, unopened.

Alana looked at him, at the box, at the flowers in her hand. She reached out and undid the box, to show a sapphire ring, surrounded with diamonds. Sparkling on its cushion.

'Will you marry me Alana?' he said. 'I know we have only known each other for a short time but I think I fell in love with you that first day.'

'What, when you were shouting at me?' she giggled.

He nodded. 'I was so shocked to find three girls in my bed, one so beautiful it made my heart ache. I didn't know what to think, but when you started talking, telling me how you had been mistreated, my heart swelled, I wanted to protect you. I still do. To love and protect. Please will you be my wife?'

Alana suddenly realised the room had gone quiet; everyone was stood still staring at them. Waiting for her response.

'I,' she said. 'I'm shocked, I didn't realise you liked me. Not how I liked you.' She grinned. 'Yes,' she said. 'Yes, I would love to be your wife.' She crouched down on the floor in front of him, and kissed him on the lips. Then she took Hope off him. 'Would that be okay Hope?' she asked. 'Do you want me to marry your daddy?'

The child just put her arms around Alana. 'Lana,' she said. 'I love Lana.'

'And so do I,' Fred said, helping her to stand up. He took the ring out of the box, put the box in his pocket, so he could use both his hands and then put the ring on her wedding finger.

He hugged her, she hugged him back, and little Alana put her arms around both of them.

The hall erupted with sounds, with laughter, with clapping. Vicki ran towards them. 'I'm so pleased for you,' she said.

Alana pulled away from Fred and looked at her school friend and grinned.

'Alana,' Fred said. 'You have one more year to complete on your nursing training and I can't ask you to leave that behind and come to France. So I decided that if you said yes, Hope and I would move back to England. We just need to find the right house now.'

She smiled at him, gently kissed him again on the lips and then stared in his eyes. 'I'd live anywhere,' she said. 'Just as though I am your wife, I don't care where I live.'

She closed her eyes, and just for a moment saw the man from her dreams, the man who had sent the lion. He was smiling at her, and she heard his voice. Line of the healer, running through time, going from the healer, into the future. Names that lead forward and right back to where it starts. The beginning marked the end, and in the end, the beginning bends.'

She didn't understand what it meant, but for a moment she saw a little blonde haired girl, leaving her home, all that she knew behind.


	24. Ayla, 2085AD Part One

Ayla - 2085AD – Headington, Oxford.

When the five year old blonde haired girl left her home that morning, she didn't realise that all that was really important to her would be gone when she got home. She just rushed out, after kissing her mother goodbye, ran to her friend, grabbed her hand and together they walked in the walking school bus to the school shuttle that would take them to their school.

But that was the day that everything changed. No one knew it was coming. Her mother was out shopping and didn't know it was her last day and neither did her father who was busy in the garden on his day off from work.

The children in school were protected, surrounded by glass domes, many of their parents weren't. When the storm came, all those outside were taken by it, shattered into atoms, never to walk the Earth again.

But the children remained, as did many who had been protected from the storm. The houses were not damaged, only the flesh of animals and humans.

And so a new time started for the world, a world vastly depleted of its people.

2095AD

Fifteen year old Ayla hurried down the corridor of school, hoping she wouldn't be late for the test. One of the many children who had lost their parents in the storms ten years before, she now lived at her school that had been turned into vast dormitories for those considered to be the hope of the world. She was one of the youngest children; there were only a few younger who had been just starting nursery on that dark day. Most of the children were older than her.

Some of her school had parents, because some people have been inside and protected from the storm. It was from these parents that the vast majority of the younger children came, ones who had grown up never knowing the world as it was, but only as it had become. But they lived in domes neighbourhoods, accessible through tunnels. Not many were allowed out into the open anymore.

Except those who passed the test.

She realised that she wasn't the only one going for the test when she entered the room, there were five others from her year, three from higher years, and one from a lower one. That made ten of them, and only four would be chosen.

She sidled into the room, sitting down in a vacant chair and waited for the examiner.

'I didn't think you would be here,' a voice sneered next to her.

Ayla turned around and saw the popular girl of her year. Her parents hadn't been killed on the day of the storm and she had been allowed to continue living in her home and travel to school. Ayla had seen her house once when they were on their way to the museum of the early twenty first century. It was huge, but then she should have known if would be, the girl was always wearing the most fashionable clothes.

Now she was wearing a hologram tunic, the pattern ever changing to suit her mood. Sometimes it was pink, with flowers, other times snowy white with a picture of a kitten on.

Ayla's own clothes were simpler, just woven cotton and polyester. Cheap, servable and given to her.

'I said I didn't think you would be here,' the girl said again.

Ayla turned to look at her. 'And I didn't think you would be either Amanda. I'm surprised that you want to get your pretty manicured nails dirty, or let the wind into your curls.'

Amanda patted her hair. 'My father said that if I passed the test then he would be able to pay for me to go into management. If you pass, I'll be your boss.' She sneered.

Ayla smiled and turned to face the front. She wasn't going to let the girl annoy her.

'Okay ladies and gentlemen, if I can have your attention for a while. We are soon going to head to the test area, but before we do, I want to remind you that we only take the best. Four out of the ten will be chosen, no more and no less. If you want one of those places then you have to impress us, not just with your knowledge and understanding but with your attitude and natural ability. Those that pass the test will go on to do one of the most important jobs in our city. Now if you would follow me.'

Amanda pushed forward and was first to leave the room.

Ayla walked through one of the growing rooms, the place where some of their food was grown under artificial light. It was a vast area, filled with green buds that would someday be implanted outside to grow. This room was one of the most important, others provided food for city, or herbs, but this room held the trees.

When the storm had come it had touched some parts of the world more than others. Much of the rain forests had been destroyed, as well as trees nearer. Those early days people had worried about running out of oxygen, for not so much was being produced now. That was why so many had moved into domed cities, so the oxygen levels could be maintained easier than outside. They'd built generators that chemically produced the oxygen needed but outside it was a different matter. Those going outside had to wear oxygen masks, because the air was too thin now.

So there she was, in that room. Ready for the test, ready to be tested. It was a simple test really but hard too. The most important task in their world was to grow trees so that once again the world would be totally habitable and there was only one way to do that. She looked at the piece of paper she'd been given, with a number on. A number for a young tree. Her test was to move that tree without damaging it to the outside and then look after it day by day for the next few weeks until it flourished. And if she did it well, and the tree survived, then she might be given a one of the four places that oxford was allowed each year on the horticulture course based in London. Because that was what she wanted to do, in a world of metal and plastic, she wanted to grow natural things, she wanted to work outside, and one day she would be working to change the world back to what they'd lost.

Wearing a mask, Ayla stepped outside. To the place where a wind could blow through your hair, where a spot of rain can be felt on the skin. Where the barren land stretched out before your eyes, with only small pockets of greenery.

Picking up her tool belt, she buckled it around her waist and walked away from the domed city. It was raining slightly and she was glad that she had remembered to wear a waterproof jacket. She shuddered as she remembered when she was young being told the rain water stung like acid now, maybe it had back then, but not now. She pulled her collar to her chin and started to walk.

She was looking for a place to put the tree. Somewhere that would give it maximum sun without drying it up with too much. Somewhere that the rain would reach but wouldn't be prey to water forming into puddles after it had fallen down a barrier. Somewhere that wouldn't be too windy. In other words, somewhere near to the city to be protected by it to some degree but not so near that the rain falling off the domes wouldn't fall down and drown it.

She found a sunny patch that looked just right. And then she bent down and looked at the soil. She took a hand shovel out of her tool belt and dug it into the ground, putting the soil into her hand she felt the texture, looking for small rocks and the clogginess of clay. She squeezed the slightly moist soil in her hand and saw that it had formed a compact lump. She poked it, and when it held its shape.

'Clay,' she said to herself as she put it back on the ground, smoothing it with her hand and stood up again.

She continued looking.

The next area she found didn't have quite so much sun; it was dry but not too much and was sheltered from the wind. But when she bent down and examined the soil, she found there was too much sand in it and just flowed through her fingers.

So she dusted off her hands on her trousers. The sun was bright by then, and starting to hurt her eyes. She moved to a more shaded area, under a tree, one of the first planted after the storm. She just wanted to get out of the glare for a while. She pulled a bottle of water out of her tool belt, and taking her mask off first place it to her lips. A few gulps and she was putting the mask back on, screwing the lid on the bottle and started looking again.

Near the tree, but not so near that its roots would take the nutrients out of the soil, she found another patch of ground that looked good. Once again it was a sheltered area, and not prone to puddles. She ran the soil through her hands and then squeezed it into a ball. When she opened her hand, the shape held but when she poked it with a finger, it fell apart.

Ayla grinned. 'I think I might have found the perfect location for my tree,' she said to herself, rummaging in her tool belt. She pulled out the hand shovel again and dug a small hole, and then she poured some water from her bottle into it, turning the hole muddy. Then she took a ph soil tester out of the tool belt and stuck into the mud.

A minute later, she looked at the readout for it. 'Seven,' she said to herself. 'The ph of this soil is neutral. Perfect for my little tree.'

She took a colour stick out of her tool bag and stuck it into the soil. The stick had her name on.

She took a wheel barrow out with her the next day, filled with compost. She had put a spade on top, and carefully wheeled it to where she had placed her marker the day before.

Sticking her spade in the soil, she straightened the mask on her face, and then started to dig. The day before she had checked what sort of soil was in the spot, but now she made other discoveries. An odd discarded chocolate bar wrapper from before the storm, an old brown bottle and a bronze coin, that said the number two on it, and had a woman's head on it. She'd heard about money, and just about remembered her mother helping her buy sweets with it, but it was strange to hold an obsolete thing in her hand. Now they dealt with trade with credit and debit through the interweb.

She dug deeper and found a plastic fashion doll that some child long ago had lost. She shook the soil out of its hair and put it to one side; she would show her friend later.

When the hole was big enough, she started to fill it with the compost, patting it down to make a much smaller hole, just the right size for the tree.

With this done, she went back to her little tree, through the air locks and into the vast rooms until she reached it. A group of men were standing around the tree next to hers, but she ignored them.

She crouched down on her knees, and gently started to ease the tree free with her small shovel. Bit by bit she loosened the soil, making sure she didn't hurt it, making sure it was okay.

The trees had been planted with a fabric layer underneath them to protect the roots, so she wrapped it around them, and lifted the tree up.

It weight hardly anything but she didn't want to risk carrying it, so put it on one of the trolleys the others would be using to move their trees and started wheeling it out.

As she passed the men again, she heard a snivelling voice. 'Daddy, tell them to hurry up. I want my tree planted today.'

Ayla glanced towards the sound and saw Amanda standing next to her father, watching the men work at freeing the tree.

'Hush darling,' her father said to her. 'You don't want them to hurt the tree do you? If it's hurt, then it won't thrive when its outside and you won't get on the course. And you know how much I want you to get on that course.'

'Yes daddy,' she curled a curl around her finger and stuck her tongue out at Ayla when she saw her looking at her. 'Daddy, make that horrid girl go away.'

'What?' her father said and turned to look at Ayla too. He started walking towards her. 'If you want to get one of the places on the course, then you will know what's good for you and not tell anyone about what you have seen here,' he said. 'I'm just helping her.'

'By getting others to do her work?'

'Daddy, make her shut up,' Amanda stuck out her bottom lip.

'I don't want my little girl doing such work. I am only doing what any dad would do.'

'She hasn't got a dad,' Amanda sneered.

'Oh just an orphan, living on the state's good will. Well shut up about this, or you won't find yourself on the agricultural course but somewhere far nastier.'

'Send her to the sewage and compost plant daddy, she'd fit in well there.'

'Yes,' he looked back at Ayla. 'Shut your mouth or you will end up at the sewage and compost plant.' And to add further to his threat, he kicked her little tree. Then he took his daughter's hand and went back to the men doing her work.

Amanda turned around as they walked around, stuck out her tongue and mouthed words at Ayla. 'Sewage.' She grinned maliciously.

Ayla shook her head and checked her tree. He's managed to break one of its tiny branches right off. She sighed and started wheeling it out again. Before she left the room, she picked a piece of thin plastic, two plastic poles and some organic twine.

When she reached her hole, she put the two plastic poles into the soil on both sides of it, pushing them down hard. She then gently placed the tree up right in the hole, between the poles. She put more compost over the roots. Making sure it was secure. Then she picked up the thin piece of plastic and bent it into a circle. She tied this around the tree, to the poles.

'Even if it does get windy, that will protect you,' she said to the tree, and then giggled at herself.

Finally, she put some water from her water bottle over it.

And then she went to get cleaned up, passing Amanda, her daddy and the men on the way.

Over the next days and weeks, Ayla went out every day and tended to the little tree. She would take plant food out to it; make sure it had enough water, but not too much. And she sat with it, talk to it, tell it her dreams and aspirations. She'd tell it stories.

'A few years ago, when I had just started high school,' she smiled to herself as her memories took her back to the time she was twelve.

'I'd just started high school, and we were coming to the end of the first term. Christmas. We'd decorated our classroom with streamers and big balloons, painted pictures of people outside in the snow carolling. Anyway, my teacher suggested we go on a trip to see some works of art, not Christmas ones, just normal every day art that had been done in the years and centuries before the storm. We were really excited, because it meant leaving the school, something we hadn't been allowed to do in Primary school. We were all given masks, because the art gallery we were going to was in a part of Oxford that had never been joined to the dome. So we had to get a couch there. I remember twiddling with my mask, and my teacher telling me off, she said that if I stopped it working, then I would die outside.' Ayla smiled as she touched the mask she was wearing as she spoke to the tree.

'Anyway, we all had our masks on, and trooped outside to the couch. Once we were on, and the doors shut, we were allowed to take them off, because the coach produced its own oxygen. I remember the engine started and our teacher passing out sweets, something I'd not had for a long time. We went passed the domed city, and then left in, out into the countryside. Passed houses that were no longer occupied, their gardens bare of life, paint peeling off the windowsills. Some of the glass in the windows was smashed and some doors had been broken down. Those houses looked eerie, I could almost see someone standing looking through the broken windows. Though of course there was no one there.' She laughed.

'We arrived at the art gallery and put on our masks before we left the coach. We'd parked by a big old building; my teacher told us that it was a castle and had been built over a thousand years before. It certainly looked it, stained tiny stones made up its walls, it had weird windows, and small little things that I suppose one didn't have glass in them. I remember feeling surprised that they had managed to make it airtight, it didn't look the sort of building that would be possible but when I asked our teacher she said that they had filled it the walls with foam, and covered the windows with perspex. Plus she said that even if some of the oxygen escaped, it didn't matter because the air outside, with such a low density of oxygen in it, wouldn't be able to force its ways passed the rich oxygen. At the time that hadn't meant too much sense to me, but I guess she was right. Anyway, surrounding the castle, all the way around on the floor were slats of plastic, water visible through the gaps. My teacher told me that the water was a moat that in olden times had protected the castle from attack. I tried to imagine what it would have been like back then, just after the Norman invasion that I'd learnt about in school, but it was too long ago, and too different to my own life.'

She looked at the tree. 'Back then, there was probably a girl a bit like me, my ancestor I suppose.' She smiled and rubbed her hands on her knees. 'So anyway, they took us to a nearer section, made of plastic and metal, and we had to line up and in small groups go in there, and through the air locks. Just like in the city. We came out into another plastic room, larger though and waited for our teacher. When we were all in, we were told me could take our masks off, and were led into the castle. Plastic gave way to tapestry walls that gave way to stone walls. We passed a coffee shop, the aroma of coffee filling the air and a dark area that we were told led to the dungeons, for the castle had used to be a prison once and they had a tour of it. Some of the boys wanted to join the tour but our teacher instead led us into a different part of the castle, a collection of vast rooms, filled with painting and photos. With sculptures and delicate things from the past. I walked over to a vase, it was white, like a big bowl, with a tighter top and painted on it was a blue dragon. It was enclosed with glass, so I couldn't get too close but a sign said that it was a Ming dynasty vase from the fourteen century. I bent down to look closer at it, when I heard one of my friends shouting and our teacher trying to shush him. He was shouting my name and saying something about finding a painting of me. I walked over to him, and there on the wall was a painting of a girl who did look like me. She had my blonde hair, my grey blue eyes, even her face was the same shape, high cheekbones, and heart shaped face. But she wasn't wearing my clothes, no yellow frazzled top or tubular trousers; she was wearing a dress, a long dress, which divided on the skirt into a skirt and underskirt. And behind her was a castle, not the one we were in, but another. Before I could wonder how I was on the wall, wearing strange clothes, I heard another of my friends shouting me. She'd found another painting, this one of me again, or a girl just like me, but wearing a nurse's outfit from the Second World War, and there was a photo next to it of an actual girl. I looked at my friend in shock, but didn't know what to say, I didn't know how what I was seeing was possible, but then another friend started shouting, and another and another. I saw paintings of the girl like me, wearing all sorts of clothing, rough hessian dresses, rich velvets, one girl looked like she was on a boat, you could see a churning sea through the port hole, but it was her stomach that to me was more interesting, because it was extended, underneath her long skirt, it was evident she was pregnant. And there were more, a girl standing by the feet of Jesus as he was crucified, another watching as people were torn apart by lions, her hand over her mouth, her face a picture of horror. A girl in modern clothes sleeping with two other girls on a bed in what looked like a shack. Another standing next to what looked like a dying large woolly elephant. A woolly mammoth. I was astounded and more than a little afraid by then but I kept finding more pictures, a girl walking through dead bodies, her long skirt sopping up blood, and another sitting next to the bed of a man who was obviously very ill with one of the old times illnesses. Another living with Indians. A girl leading a line of children, through a snow covered road, each rubbing their stomachs like they were hungry. That girl looked older though, more of a woman and so did some of the others. One girl that particularly caught my attention was one wearing what looked like animals skins. She was riding a yellow horse, a wolf running next to her. She looked so wild and so alive, I could almost imagine that she could come out of the painting to say hello.' Ayla giggled.

'Most frightening of all was the painting of a little girl leaving her home, a home that looked very like the home I used to live in before the storm, a girl that looked just like me when I was five. She was wearing my school uniform and had her hair tied into plaits like my mother used to tie mine. I stepped closer to that painting, how could I not? And that was when I saw a name scribbled in the paint at the bottom. Alana Clear. My grandmother's grandmother. My great great grandmother. My mother had a book about her; how she had been really ill and just started painting afterwards, but could only paint the same girl in different stages of life and different clothes. She'd shown me it when I was little, read some of it to me, and let me look at the pictures. The paintings that she had done throughout her life were given to the art gallery after her death by her daughter. There had been a lot of talk about how they showed the history of man, going from the ice age right up to the future. The little girl was considered to be from that time, her clothes metallic and sparkly were not those of yesterday but tomorrow. I remembered all that as I looked at the painting of the little girl, and that was when I noticed it. Very small, in the corner of the painting, was the storm. Crackling fire, filled with lightning. Black and red, staring out at me. The destroyer of our world, the killer of my parents, right there, in a painting done in the early part of the century.'

She closed her eyes for a moment to centre her thoughts. 'I wondered little tree, how she could have known? How she could have seen the future before it had happened? And if she could see the future, could she see the past too? Were the paintings Alana dressed in different clothes? For she too looked just like me, or could it be that somehow, she had painted actual girls and women that had lived back then. Her ancestors. My ancestors.' She smiled. 'I suppose I will never know will I little tree?' and with that, she stood up, and went back to the city.

After a month of looking after her little tree, of sitting with it, talking to it, making sure it was well watered and had the nutrients it needed, finally the day when the test finished came and with it the decision that would affect the rest of her life.

She trembled as she walked into the room, ignoring the smug face of Amanda, she sat down. She tried not to bite her nails, she kept her legs still, though she was feeling very agitated. Some of the young people in the room looked just as scared as she was. Pale faces, biting lips, clenching hands. She looked up at the clock, thankful it wasn't a digital but an old fashioned one. She watched the second hand move around its face.

She looked up when the man came into the room. The man who had set the test a month before. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand with the names of those who had passed and would be going on the course.

She stared at it, as if it would talk to her but of course it didn't. She glanced around one last time, seeing that even Amanda looked frightened, though she stuck out her tongue at Ayla when she saw her looking.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' the man started to talk. 'This last month you have all been brilliant and showed a lot of promise, and if I could I would give you all a place on the course but as you all know there are only four allotted to Oxford, so only four of you will be accepted and six will be turned down.'

There wasn't a single sound in the room, everyone listening to every word he said.

'I don't want to be mean so I will tell you now who is through.' He looked at his paper. 'The first person through is Alisha Perinale,' he said. 'Alisha set up a tent by her tree, stayed with it for the whole month, when it was windy she held onto her tree to make sure it was okay.'

Everyone clapped as Alisha stood up and went to stand next to him.

'Next is Jordon Branch, who showed great enterprise when his tree was knocked over,' he stared at the group as if he was accusing someone of having done that but didn't know who. 'He uprooted the tree again and took it to another plot of land where it thrived. Without him doing this, it is likely that the person might have struck again and the tree would have died.'

Everyone gasped at this statement and looked at each other. Who would hurt a tree? They watched as Jordon went to stand next to Alisha.

'Third place goes to John Brightstar for finding a suitable place to plant his tree, and making sure it was well watered and looked after.'

John grinned when he heard his name and nearly ran to the front of the room, causing him to bang into an empty table.

'Lastly, but definitely not least, is a young lady who lavished love on her tree day and night. It too was planted properly and looked after. Amanda Smythe.'

Ayla watched as if in a dream as Amanda stood up and smugly walked to the front of the room.

'As to the rest of you, I am sorry. Like I said I really would give you all a place if I could.'

A man walked into the room, and whispered into his ear.

'Okay, there is one of you who I wouldn't give a place to. I have just been informed that one of the trees was damaged; its branch had been broken off. It damaged the tree, not irreparably but any mistreatment rules that person out of ever working in the field of horticulture. I won't mention names because that would be unfair but as I have a word with those who didn't get on the course afterwards, I will have a special word to say to that person.'

He stopped Ayla on the way out. 'Can I have a word with you?' he said.

'It wasn't me,' she said hurriedly. 'I didn't hurt my tree.'

'But its branch was broken.'

'I know but not by me.'

'Then who?'

Ayla looked at her feet and didn't answer.

'And then there is Jordon's tree,' he continued. 'Someone knocked it over. Someone nearly killed it. Was it you?'

Shocked, she looked up at him. 'I would never...'

'Because I've heard that it was you. Someone saw you doing it.'

Ayla frowned. 'Who? Who saw me doing something I didn't do?'

He stared down at her, his lip curled up in disgust. 'I can't reveal my sources.'

'But you can accuse me of something I didn't do?' She turned to walk away.

'They also said you had help with your tree.'

She spluttered, turned and stared at him in amazement. 'It wasn't me that had help. It wasn't me whose daddy paid for them to get on the course.'

'I assume you mean Amanda? After all the work she did you have the audacity to accuse her of what you did?'

Ayla felt that fire was shooting out of her eyes now, she could feel her anger rising. 'Audacity nothing,' she said. 'Amanda cheated her way onto the course, she doesn't even want to do it, she just wants to be in management and boss all you fools around. And daddy is definitely going to help her do that and he doesn't mind who he stands on or whose tree he damages. But the simple truth is, I reckon you already know that. You know how hard I worked but her daddy paid you to look the other way.'

'He did not pay me. Amanda's dad is a large contributor to the horticultural society and has helped us in many ways as I'm sure she will too in time.'

'So in other words, you sold out.' And with that she turned away and left the room.

Her dreams in shatters, she walked back to the dormitory she'd spent her life in since the storm. For so long, she'd been full of so many plans but now she had nothing. No idea of what she could do, or even wanted to do with her life.

'Can you not get someone to help you?' one of her friends said after she had told those she shared the dormitory with about what had happened.

'I know,' another one said. 'While you've been gone, we've had a new teacher in school. She's really nice and I'm sure she would help you.'

'I don't think I want to be helped,' Ayla admitted. 'Sure I wanted to work with plants and trees and nature, I wanted to help make this world what it was, but not if it means working for a corrupt society. And one that would allow Amanda in when she cheated so, well they are welcome to each other.'

'That Amanda is a cow,' a girl muttered.

'Yes, she isn't very nice,' Ayla said.

'Didn't you use to be friends, back in nursery and reception before the storm?'

Ayla nodded. 'Best friends, I used to go to her house to play and she mine. Our mums used to take turns taking us to school. The morning of the storm I remember running out, and grabbing Amanda's hand. Her mum took us to school that day but she only picked Amanda up at the end. After that, I didn't really see Amanda much, only at school and she seemed to grow distant, as if she thought she was better than me because she had parents.' She sighed. 'Her parents weren't anything special before the storm, not particularly rich and didn't have a lot of belongings, well no more than my family but I think afterwards they rode on the wave of disaster to enrich themselves. Selling what they had, food in a corner shop, for inflated prices. I sometimes wonder if Amanda and I would have still been friends if the storm had never happened but I will never know, what is done is done.'

'Well I think it is disgusting that she can treat a childhood friend like you,' a girl said, her arms around her pillow as if she was imagining it was Amanda's neck. 'And I bet it was her that knocked over Jordon's tree. Her or her father or those men they hired.'

'Probably,' Ayla sighed. 'I hope she doesn't play her tricks now she's on the course. Because if she does then she'll make the other students' lives horrible.'

'But at least you don't have to see her again. Are you coming back to school then? I'm sure you'd love Mrs Zdoni, our new teacher.'

Ayla nodded her head. 'I guess so.'

Ayla walked back into the classroom that a month before she thought she had left. She had always enjoyed school and was a hard worker, but it was still strange to be back and her dreams gone.

A large woman stood at the front of the class, writing on the white board with her computer marker, making vast areas of print area in the blink of the eye. She turned around as everyone came in and smiled brightly at them.

'I see we have a new pupil,' she said, looking straight at Ayla. 'Or perhaps an old one who has been disappointed?'

Ayla didn't say anything; she was actually a bit worried that the accusation against her had made it back to the school authorities.

'Yes, I believe one who has been disappointed.' She looked at a piece of paper. 'Ayla, isn't it?'

Ayla nodded her head.

'My name is Mrs Zdoni. When I knew you'd be in my class, I looked over your records. You are an excellent pupil and a pleasure to teach. Or so your previous teachers have said of you.' She came over to stand next to where Ayla had seated herself.

Ayla looked up at her, feeling tears in her eyes.

Mrs Zdoni bent down and whispered so only Ayla could hear. 'And I believe that over the erroneous report from a corrupt horticultural society member. And from what I've been told over the weeks you were doing the test, you were out for hours every day tending your little tree, while others who managed to pass through others work, were busy filing their nails and paying for the competition to be sabotaged.'

Ayla blinked.

'You are a brilliant young lady. I can see that just looking into your eyes. And the horticultural society has missed out not snapping you up. But others will benefit from their loss I'm sure. We just have to find out who they are.' She smiled. 'Though I suspect it will involve nature.'

She walked back to the front of the class. 'If you would get out your I-Books, and search for page two hundred and twelve of History. Today we are going to learn about hunters and gatherers in the Ice Age.'

Ayla dreamt about the Ice Age that night, curled up in her bunk in the dormitory, she dreamt of a time long gone. One that she would never know. First of all, she only dreamt of the things Mrs Zdoni had shown them, sightless skulls, flint tools and ivory statues of women with small heads and bigger other parts. The Venus' or Doni as she called them were a mystery to the historical society. In her dream she saw the Venus of Brassempouy, the ivory head with features and weird pattern over its hair. But Ayla didn't get to look at it for long though, because the dream of memories was pulled in another direction.

Over land, passed running horses, a little river winding its way through a valley. The dream kept on pulling up a steep cliff, to a dark hole, pulling her into a cave. A cave wear a young girl sat, maybe a year or two younger than Ayla. She was busy doing, well she didn't know what the girl was doing but then she looked up at her.

'Hello,' the girl said. 'You're Ayla aren't you?'

Ayla just nodded her head.

'So am I,' the girl said. 'My name is Ayla too.'

'Is it?'

'Yeah and we even look like each other.'

Ayla looked at the girl; she did look like her, and also a bit like the painting her great great grandmother had painted. But this girl instead of loose flowing blonde hair had it weaved into hundreds of little plaits, each secured with what looked like a piece of twine.

'Do you know where you are?'

Ayla shook her head, starting to feel a bit frightened. 'Where am I?'

'You're in my cave,' the girl smiled mysteriously. 'Well my cave when I was younger anyway.'

'Younger?'

'Younger. I was no age back then, though I was already starting to think I was old but now I know how young I really was. But then I am outside of time now.'

Ayla frowned. 'How is that possible?'

'Everything is possible when you follow the way,' she said. 'Eventually. Anyway enough of that, you are here for a reason and it isn't to be confused. You want to know what I am doing?'

Ayla blinked. 'Yes, I do.'

'Okay,' she smiled. 'I have much to tell you and much to teach you. Are you ready for that?'

'I suppose,' she thought that any minute she would wake up again and be in the dormitory.

'You suppose? You have to know for sure. Ayla, what do you think is your destiny?'

'I don't know.'

'You are the last link, the beginning of the end, whereas I was the end of the beginning. My time is passing, your time is nearly here but you need to learn. You are the last of my line and will be the first of your own. But our line will never die. You are a healer, are you ready to learn?'

'Yes.'

The girl nodded her head. 'Good, then we will begin.'

Mrs Zdoni swept into the class room, her silver teacher's coat streaming out behind her. 'Over the last few weeks, we have been studying the hunter/ gatherer lifestyle of the people of the Ice Age. I have showed you many pictures, talked a lot, let you read even more. But now, I think, it is time for something more practical. One of the main ways they had of getting food was gathering it. So that is what I have organised for you all. We are going to visit the gardens, the indoor ones at the moment and look at what is grown there.'

A boy put his hand up.

'Yes Broden.'

'We should go hunting, those people used to kill animals.'

Mrs Zdoni nodded her head. 'They did indeed, but the only animals around here are in climate controlled barns. Do you really think it is fair to hunt them?

He scowled. 'I just think it would be good.'

'Maybe so, but it's not going to happen. Not in Oxford. Now if everyone is ready, we should make our way to the gardens.'

They walked down a corridor until they got to one of the big lifts that ran from the top to the bottom of the city. Half of the class were able to fit in, though it was a bit of a squeeze and they went down to the lower level where the gardens were. The lift jolted as it went down, past floors of the school, past the council offices, past living quarters, both the dormitories of the orphans and the richer homes of those that had survived the storm. Finally the lift doors opened and they stepped out into the heated first room of the garden. There was just one light in the room, hanging in the middle of the ceiling.

Ayla had been there before; she'd been introduced to the area when she'd been doing the test. Now she was worried about being in the horticultures society's domain again. She was scared that any moment she would come across one of the people she had met during her month of testing. That she would be accused again.

When she stepped into the first garden, Mrs Zdoni leading the way, she saw only one girl knelt on the ground with a small shovel. This area of the garden was bare, like it was just about to be planted. And that was what the girl looked like she was doing.

'Jenna,' Mrs Zdoni said.

The girl stood up, wiped her hands on her blue trousers and smiled when she saw them. 'Welcome,' she said. 'My name is Jenna, and Mrs Zdoni used to teach me, like she is teaching you, but a few years back. Now I am a fully qualified horticulturalist and work in the food and useful plants gardens.' She waved her hand over the soil. 'I am planting carrots today.'

Ayla sighed, only slightly, but enough for Jenna to look at her.

'Do you want to work with plants?' she asked. 'You could take the test next year and see if you could get one of the places on the course. You've just missed the last one.'

Ayla turned red.

Jenna tilted her head to one side. 'I've met you before haven't I?'

Ayla shrugged her shoulders. She still felt really upset about what had happened and didn't want to talk about it.

But Jenna snapped her fingers as she remembered and slapped herself on the forehead. 'So stupid,' she said and smiled at Ayla. 'You took the test this year didn't you? I remember all the hoo-haw about it, the head judge accusing you.' She touched Ayla's hand. 'You know that Amanda's daddy paid him to accept her don't you?'

Ayla nodded her head. 'I thought he had.'

'And from what I've been told, it was her and her father that damaged your tree and tried to ruin the opportunities of another competitor. She's a nasty piece of work.'

'You know her?'

'Sadly I do. One of my tasks is to take on one of the trainees, and give them practical experience. That one though,' she sighed. 'She'd rather sit on her bottom while everyone else is doing the work.' She grinned. 'Not that I've allowed that. I've set her to work with another member of my team, a real hard worker that won't let her slack off.'

'She's here?'

'She's outside. We've started trying to plant some crops outside. At the moment she is composting them. Well,' she chuckled. 'Actually for the last week, she's been using spreading manure over the land. She's really smelt when she has come in each night and is still a bit whiffy in the morning. But I will make her a hard worker, even if it kills her. Anyway, you aren't here to talk about that. You are here to see one of the healing gardens.'

'Healing?' Ayla asked.

'We grow plants that have medicinal uses. That's what Mrs Zdoni wanted you all to see today. You're going to pick some of them for me.'

Ayla looked at her teacher. She'd been having dreams where another Ayla taught her about plants and healing and now her teacher was going to do the same.

'Come on class,' Mrs Zdoni said, not realising that Ayla was feeling a bit shocked.

They walked into a bigger room than the one where Jenna had been planting carrots. On the ceiling were hung purple incandescent light bulbs that lit up the room with a slightly pink glow. The ground was divided into sections, where differently coloured plants grew. A mist of water sprayed out of the walls at regular intervals.

'Okay, as you have come to see healing plants, can anyone tell me what a marigold looks like and what is its medicinal use?'

Most of her fellow students were quiet but Ayla put her hand up. 'I don't need to tell you what it looks like, because the second plot on the third row is growing with marigolds.' She pointed towards the small yellow and orange flowers. 'As to its use, it can be used as an astringent as well as an antiseptic.'

'Wow,' Jenna said. 'Mrs Zdoni has really been teaching you a lot.' She grinned.

'Mrs Zdoni didn't teach us that,' Broden said. 'She just made us look at boring pictures and read mind numbing history.'

Jenna looked at Mrs Zdoni.

'I think our Ayla has been getting lessons from somewhere else.' Her eyes twinkled at this. 'Let's see if she really knows her plants.'

Jenna nodded her head and mentioned another plant.

Ayla pointed it out.

By night, the girl taught Ayla and by day Mrs Zdoni was always there to pass on more information and that was how her life became. Funnily enough, even with all she was doing while she was asleep, she woke each day feeling refreshed and ready to learn even more.

And then came to anniversary. Ten years since the storm had come and changed the world.

'Are you going to the celebration today?' her friend, Teresa asked.

They didn't have school that day, the anniversary having become a national day of mourning and also looking towards the future.

'Yeah I think so. It should be fun?'

'I hear they have managed to get food from all around the world and we even have some visitors from those places too.'

Ayla looked towards Teresa. 'Really? I haven't heard any of that.'

Teresa giggled. 'That's because you've always got your head in a book, or you are hanging on every word Mrs Zdoni says.'

'I suppose.' Ayla looked at her hands, noticing soil under her nails even though she hadn't been to the garden for a few days. She'd been pulling out plants in her dreams though. 'Where are they from?'

'Who?'

'These people from around the world. Where in the world have they come from?'

'France. The South of France from what I've heard.'

'You mean from...'

Teresa nodded her head. 'Yeah, and we will get to meet some of them. Imagine living there, it must be so cool.'

Ayla nodded her head. 'Yeah. I'd love to go there one day.'

'Maybe you will Ayla.' Teresa smiled. 'But only if I can come with you.'

'Deal.'

They entered one of the central squares in Oxford. In the old days, before the storm, it had been a park, with a playground and ducks to feed. It had been scorched to bare ground, the water evaporated away, but after the city was domed, the park became a sort of outside place for those who couldn't go outside because of the oxygen. A place where grass had been teased to grow again, and was filled with colourful flowers, which got plenty of light from the sun, through streamed through glass. The swings that had been scorched by the storm, along with the other things that had been a children's playground had been repainted after it was decided that they were still safe.

And so this was the area that they stepped into, filled with people like an old fashioned party in the park, a band played music at the front and people danced on the vast lawn that had been covered, to protect the grass, for the day.

People dressed up as bears and cats, mice and clowns roamed through the crowd, having their photo taken with giggling children held up by their parents.

Ayla could remember a time when her mother had held her up like that, for her photo to be taken with a giant, man filled, dog. But it was in the past, and she wouldn't let her memories spoil the day.

'I'm going to have an ice cream,' Teresa said, pushing her short body through the crowd so only her brown hair was visible for Ayla to follow. She stopped by an ice cream seller and when Ayla managed to push her way through, Teresa gave her an ice cream.

'The sun feels really warm through the glass today,' Ayla said, as she licked melting ice cream from her hand.

'Yeah,' Teresa said, pulling a strand of ice cream whitened hair out of her mouth.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' a voice boomed over their heads and they turned to the stage where the mayor was talking. 'Ten days ago was a horrible day, a day of sadness, but although we commemorate the dead and think of them every day, we wanted today to be about celebrating that life had gone on. Our planet is vastly different from the way it was ten years ago, outside of the domed cities, we can't survive without oxygen masks, but still, here we are. Ten years on, and still alive. Still striving for the best, making our planet what it was again. Today we want you to have fun.' Someone passed him an ice cream, and he raised it up for everyone to see. 'We have organised a lot of fun things to do today, there is face painting, music, dancing, stalls where you can use your credit in exchange for craft items. And free ice cream for all.'

Everyone clapped their hands when he said that, well except those busily devouring their ice creams.

'This afternoon, we will meet some special guests who can tell us about how their community have dealt with the last ten years, I think many of you are going to be very impressed. And then, late this afternoon, we will have a report that will show on the big screens, from the horticultural society and their workers and trainees. I think you will be pleasantly surprised into how much they have done already. But for now, just enjoy. Back to the music.' He waved and then left the stage.

A band took his spot and started to play.

A buffet had been set up split between the meeting rooms that surrounded the square. Food like they'd not seen for year loaded the tables, apples from London, Oranges from Seville, bananas from the hot houses of Manchester. Carrots, bowls of peas, cauliflower, broccoli, lightly cooked purple sprouting in a cheesy sauce. Lettuce leaves, tomatoes, cucumbers, tiny onions, beetroot. And surround these dishes were others, chocolate cake, banana biscuits, apple pie, caramel cream pie, lasagne, quiches, custard, cheese from the dairy farms of Devon, jacket potatoes, mousse, jellies.

'I'm surprised that the legs of the tables don't give way under the weight of all this food,' Ayla said as she filled her plate.

'Yeah,' Teresa giggled. 'But this food sure is good.'

Outside in the square the music had stopped, and they could hear someone banging a microphone. They went outside to see what was happening and saw the mayor.

'I said earlier that we have some special people from France with us today. Well they are here to talk to you now.'

Two men got onto the stage. One took the microphone from the mayor and put it to his own mouth.

'Hello Oxford,' he said. 'My name is Francois, and I am from the South of France. This is Jon, and he is from the same area. We have come today to join your celebration, for it is our own too. France was hit, like the rest of the world, by the storm. Many people died, and much of the land was destroyed. Thankfully, we had started a preservation area before hand, and this area, underneath a dome, was untouched. The vegetation remained beautiful, and the animals safe. And continued to be after the storm, while everything else fell apart.' He pointed to a screen, that showed a photo of a luscious valley, green, full of trees, with the glint of a glass dome over it.

'Our government,' Jean continued. 'They decided to enlarge the area, so built a much bigger dome over a vast area and started to replant what had been lost. The whole area now measures one hundred miles in all directions and though we have built domes over cities as well, we haven't allowed brick building to be built in hits area. Instead those that wanted to stay in the area, camp, living off the land like our ancestors would have done eons ago. In fact one of the places that was in the original preservation area is the grotto of Lascaux, where the ice age inhabitants of France painted on its cave walls.

A picture of a massive bull was shown.

'And this is when we come to the present,' Francois started to talk again. 'We are looking for young people to settle in the area, underneath the dome, to live lives like our ice age ancestors. To live of the land. We have been to other cities, throughout Europe, and have found a lot of people, but we are still looking for more.'

'So we will leave you with some of the photos of the area,' Jon finished. 'Au revoir. I hope we hear from some of you young people very soon.'

An image of a flower speckled meadow showed on the screen then, replaced by the crystal clear waters of a lake.

'It looks so beautiful,' Ayla whispered, looking at Teresa. 'What do you think? Shall we see if we can get to go?'

'I don't know, I thought it sounded really wonderful when I heard about it last week, but I didn't realise that it would be so basic, we'd not have any luxuries by the sound of it.'

'Who needs luxuries when we can live with nature, be a part of nature?'

'I suppose.'

'So we go and see what we have to do to get to live there?'

Teresa grabbed her hand. 'Yeah.'

Ayla smiled, and started to head towards the stage, where already a group of young people were gathered.

The man, who'd introduced himself as Francois, was taking names when they got there. 'Are you two girls interested in our project?'

Ayla grinned. 'Yes.'

'Good, good, I just need your names and addresses for now, and if you have your I-books, I can give you some information about it all.'

'Will we be able to use I-books if we get on your project?' Teresa asked.

François shook his head. 'No normal electronics will be allowed within the dome, except in the communication hut where those living on the land give weekly reports and ask for extra help if they need it. Not that I envision you will.'

'Oooh,' Teresa said. 'The more I hear about this, the more it sounds like one of those reality programmes from the turn of the century.'

'You mean I'm a celibate, get me in there, where they ate bugs?'

'Yeah.'

'No, there will be no bugs to eat or cameras either. This won't be a social experiment, or something that people can watch. It is about getting people to live like our ancestors. I think they had the right idea, not polluting the planet. After all the storm wouldn't have got through the ozone layer if man hadn't destroyed it.'

'You mean you want to get everyone to live like your project?'

'It would be nice, but I'm not silly enough to think that everyone would take to that life. But even if ten percent do, then that is better than nothing.'

Ayla read the input Francois had put onto her I-Book.

_We intend to emulate our ice age ancestors in the project, but not to a level where it would endanger life. The way of life will be idyllic, but with idyllic can come dangers. So if someone needs serious medical attention, like an operation, they will be removed from the project and taken to one of the nearby city hospitals. The same is true for illness or injury. Once better they will be able to return. That doesn't mean that the way of healing that was used back then, and still is today, using herbs and knowledge will not be allowed. On the contrary, we hope to attract some healers to our project who can see to the day to day ailments that are sure to happen. Before these healers go into the project though, they will be told how far they can use their healing skills, and when to call for help._

_Plus nowadays we know what constitutes hygienic, so normal procedures for that will be followed. All water will be boiled and people will not bath in the drinking water. Long drop toilets will be built to see to the other needs of those within the project._

_As to burning wood for fires, for heat and cooking. After much thought, we have decided that burning trees is not a good thing, they give us oxygen, so will not be used in that way. Therefore it has been decided that each week, animal dung will be collected by the inhabitants and mixed with dry grasses and wasted food and left to dry. Once dry it will be your fuel, what you burn. Because you will be in a dome, the smoke will rise into the upper parts of the dome, where it will be filtered off. But it won't be stored somewhere, but once checked for dangerous chemicals and they removed, will be used to help the world's trees grow. They need carbon dioxide to grow, and produce oxygen that we need._

'Oh gross,' Ayla said when she read about dung.

'What?' Teresa wasn't as fast a reader and hadn't got to that part.

Ayla passed her I-book over and pointed out what had revolting her.

Teresa slowly read what was wrote and then looked up at Ayla, a look of disgust on her face. 'Suddenly I don't want to go anymore.'

'Me neither. Gross.'

They would have kept reading, for though they didn't like the idea of having to collect dung and burn it, etc, they were still interested in the project. But then they heard the microphone again, and the voice of the mayor.

'If you all would like to look at one of the screens overhead, we have a live link to the horticultural society just outside London.'

Ayla looked at a flickering screen. And then suddenly the voice of the man who had done her test, who had sold out to Amanda and her daddy, came booming into the square and he appeared on the screen.

'I suddenly feel much sicker over seeing him than the thought of burning dung,' she said, mostly to herself.

'Ssshhhh,' Teresa put a finger to her lips. 'Let's listen.'

'Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls,' the man said; his face red with sun exposure and his chest puffed out with his pride. 'The horticultural society is saving the world. We are feeding the people by planting vegetables, but we have also been planting trees. These trees will give us oxygen when they are full grown enough. The more trees we plant, the more oxygen. But though many of you have known that this is our plan, not many know how far we have got with it. Today I want to show you around our forest, the first of many in England and through communication, we know the first of many around the world. In another ten years we aim to have so many trees planted and growing, that the need for oxygen masks outside will be abolished. We will be able to walk outside like our ancestors were able to.'

The crowd in the square clapped at this, and even with that noise the sound of clapping could be heard through the live link too.

'Today, I intend to take you through this forest, where the trees, though young still are flourishing. You will meet many of our workers and our trainees who are busy making the world a safe place to live again. We will make this planet an oxygen for all planet again. Come anyway.'

The camera turned so it was no longer on the smiling and smug face of the man but trained on a forest of half grown trees. The camera moved closer so it was possibly to see that the trees were a little taller than the average human. In fact, humans could be seen moving within the trees.

No one talked as the images played over the screen, moving through the forest, the leaves of trees, shining in the sun light.

And then she saw her. Amanda standing next to a tree, smiling smugly.

'Ah, the lovely Amanda,' the man said. 'One of our most recent recruits.'

'Hello,' Amanda said, waving at the camera.

'So how are our trees growing today?'

'Wonderfully,' she grinned. 'I have had some of the other trainees checking them today. There is no sign of rot or any disease. They are flourishing.'

'Brilliant,' the man said. 'Amanda here is from Oxford.'

There was a cheer from the crowd, one not shared by Ayla and Teresa who knew how nasty Amanda really was.

'She proved herself in the test, despite, well never mind.'

'He's talking about me,' Ayla said through gritted teeth.

'Ignore it,' Teresa said.

'Walk with me Amanda,' the man said. 'You can talk us through what the other workers and trainees are doing.'

The screen showed Amanda and the man walking side by side.

'This is Joanna from Manchester,' she said. 'She is checking to make sure the ground isn't too wet. And this is Mark, who is...'

They'd come to the edge of the forest now, and what Amanda was saying tailed off as she looked up into the sky at what Mark was looking at.

'What the...' she said.

The camera followed what she looked at and suddenly on the screen they could see flickering in the sky, the bright sunlight blotted out by red and black, lightning.

'The storm,' the man shouted as the camera fell to the ground. 'The storm is back.'

All Ayla could see now was scurrying feet. She looked towards the dome above her head and saw the same red and black, lightning. 'It is the storm,' she nudged Teresa who was staring at the screen with horror.

And then suddenly the dome was covered with the storm, it couldn't get in, the glass protected them.

Ayla glanced towards the screen; the storm was showing up there too. But the people there were outside. 'Oh no,' she screamed, one of many screaming. 'Oh no.'

'Ayla, Mrs Zdoni wants to talk to the whole class,' Teresa said as she came into the dormitory. 'She asked me to go around telling everyone.'

'Have you heard anything about...?'

Teresa shook her head. 'Nothing, but Mrs Zdoni is sure to know what happened. Get dressed; she wants everyone in the classroom in an hour.' And with that, she hurried out to find the other members of their class.

Ayla kicked off her bedding, going to the bathroom, she quickly washed and cleaned her teeth and then went back to get dressed. As she walked passed the mostly empty beds, empty because most of the children that used to sleep in them had moved on and got jobs, she heard a little girl crying.

It was the new girl; she'd only been in the dormitory for a few months. Her mother had died when she was born and she'd been brought up by her father until he'd had an accident and died.

'Are you all right Talia?' She sat down on the ten years old girl's bed.

'I'm scared,' Talia shuddered, sitting up and staring at Ayla. 'I'm scared of the storm.'

Ayla wiped a tear that was trickling down Talia's face away. 'I know Talia, we all are but we are safe from it in the city.'

'How do you know that? Yeah this time we were, but what if it happens again, and this time it's worse?'

Ayla sighed. 'I hope that won't happen,' she said. 'Come on Talia, you should be in your class by now. Do you want me to help you get ready?'

'Yes please,' she replied.

Ayla helped her dress, and took her to the bathroom so she could wash and clean her teeth. While she was doing that, Ayla quickly got dressed.

'You left me in there,' Talia said as she came into the room. 'What if the storm had come and got me?'

'I really don't think you have anything to worry about,' Ayla said, but frowned, because the storm of yesterday had seen so much more ferocious than the one ten years before. She was only a small child at the time, so maybe she was wrong but she thought there was a good chance that they were getting worse and would one day burn the city. If and when it came back again.

Talia stood in the centre of the room, shoeless and sobbing.

Ayla gently helped her with her shoes. 'Do you want me to walk you to your classroom?' she asked Talia.

'Yes please,' Talia took her hand.

'Come on then,' Ayla smiled at her. 'And try not to worry.'

They walked down the corridors, and into a lift. Instead of pressing for floor four, Ayla pressed the floor two button that would take them to the primary school section. This was a brightly coloured area, with jigsaw patterns on the floor. They walked jungle the jungle corridor that she herself had help paint. For a second she stopped at a painting of a tiny monkey eating a banana and looked at her handiwork.

'I like that monkey too,' Talia said. 'I wish I could see a real one.'

'They're only in the zoos now,' Ayla said sadly. 'Or in old films. You really like the monkey?'

'Yeah, but I like the flamingo bird too. And even the tiger, though I don't like its claws.'

'Amanda painted that,' Ayla said.

'Was she your best friend?'

'Yeah.' Ayla sighed, she was really worried about Amanda, even though she had grown to dislike the girl, she had been her friend once and now she might be dead.

They arrived at the classroom and Ayla took Talia into the room where one of her old teachers was standing at the front.

'Ayla, how nice to see you. And you've brought Talia, thank you.'

Ayla shrugged her shoulders, waved at Talia and left the room to make her way to her own classroom. She looked at her watch and realised that she only had ten minutes to get there.

Ayla slipped into her classroom just as Mrs Zdoni started talking.

'Yesterday was a day of change,' the teacher said. 'No one expected the storm to come back, but still it came. And exactly ten years after the last time. A coincidence? No. Since yesterday scientist, one who is a friend of mine, have been working nonstop watching the storm leave our planet. It is heading out towards the outer edges of the solar system now, though it will take years to reach there. The important thing is that from its trajectory, they are pretty sure that it will Pluto, it will use it as a momentum to spin around and head back towards the sun. These last ten years we have been so focused on just surviving that nobody entertained the thought of space. But now they are. After Pluto, it will head back to the centre of our solar system, again taking a few years. With calculations they have realised that in another ten years it will be back, scorching the earth again. This time was worse than ten years ago; last time just a corner of the storm flooded the planet, this time a lot more. Calculations, though they could be wrong, say that next time, in ten years, the earth will be hit fully and unless we are more protected we could all perish. We have two choices, we built stronger domes, over the land so the vegetation will survive or we can...'

'Die,' Ayla finished.

'No actually,' Mrs Zdoni shook her head. 'There is another alternative. But my friend, the scientist has asked me to keep quiet about that until everything has been researched and they have decided whether it is possible or not. But what you all need to know is. The mayor has been talking to the leaders of the South of France project since the storm as well as other leaders from around Great Britain. All have decided that in the light of yesterday and also with possible plans, that all fourteen to eighteen year olds will join the project. It is no longer about volunteering.'

'But that's not fair,' a girl said.

'I would rather stay here,' another added. 'Life in the city is sure to be easier than life there.'

'That might be so, but you have no choice. And neither do the teachers of that age range, we are to come to.'

'When?'

'I don't know but you will be told. I suspect for now, they are making sure the storm really has gone and isn't about to turn around Mars. Once they know that it is safe to travel, they will organise it and we will all get a date for departure. I recommend everyone just enjoy their last days in the city.'

Amid grumbling, the class started to file out. Mrs Zdoni sat heavily on a chair and started looking through some paperwork.

Ayla walked up to her. 'Mrs Zdoni, do you know if the people that were outside of London. Those from the horticultural society that were on the live link, were they all killed? One of them used to be my friend and I probably knew others including the man.'

'Ah yes,' Mrs Zdoni looked at her hands. 'I'm afraid the majority of them died. One or two of them managed to get inside in time with only a few burns and one managed to shelter under a metal wheelbarrow. Though she is burnt so badly, she might not survive.'

'Okay,' Ayla wiped a tear from her eye. 'Do you know the names of the survivors?'

'No, I am sorry. You might try contacting the hospital in London to find out.'

'Yes, I'll do that.' She started to sadly walk away. 'Thank you Mrs Zdoni.

Ayla caught the shuttle to London, an underground tunnel where cars were pulled along a conveyer belt. It had been built to link the two cities together after the aftermath of the storm when it became obvious that the level of oxygen in the air outside had been affected. The cars could fit six people in them, but today she found herself alone. She sat in one of the front seats, a threadbare red material on the cushion that moulded to her back. Then she felt the car jolt as it started to trundle from the waiting shed, around a corner, down a steep hill to where it would to the conveyer belt. She felt it lurch as it got there, as the wheels slid into place, and then felt herself pushed back into her seat as it started to speed along the tunnel. She'd only been on it once when they'd visited the much larger city of London; she'd mostly gone to places with school outside of Oxford, the museum, art gallery, swimming pool. Now she clutched a bar as the car was pulled along at one hundred and fifty miles per hour, much faster than the bus. It was only fifty miles to the outskirts of London, but she was heading for the hospital so knew it would take about twenty five minutes to arrive.

So she leant back into her seat, even more than the slight g-forces were making her do and listened to the music that was now being piped into the car. Thankfully it wasn't any of the recent music recorded that was just clashing symbols and beating drums, but some of the old stuff that had someone actually singing on it. She sang along, though she didn't really sing very well. She never had, and she could just about remember her mother trying to sing nursery rhymes to her when she was little, she was bad at singing too.

Twenty five minutes later, when she was nearly falling asleep while a slower song was being played, she felt the jolt of the car reaching its destination. It was dragged up a hill and then headed into a side part of one of London's historic tube stations.

Ayla clambered out of the car, her legs felt like wobbly jelly, but she just stretched them a bit until they started to feel normal again and then headed up the stairs.

Twentieth century architecture greeted Ayla when she reached the top of the stairs. Grey concrete and white tiles, metal barriers and rafters up above her head. Added to that were see through bins, and little cubicles where you could get a ticket or a chocolate bar. If there was any chocolate available.

An old man stood in one corner, his clothes tattered and a smell coming from him, of body odour mixed with excrement and beer. He was swigging from a newspaper covered bottle, and scratching his bottom. As Ayla walked pass, he let out a loud burp. 'Got any credit for a man down on his luck?' he shouted.

Ayla shook her head and looked to where two guards were hurrying to the man.

She moved out the way, heading for a pile of newspapers, picking one up she read the title that blared over its front page.

'The world is doomed.'

Sighing, she quickly scanned the pages to see if there was any mention of injuries from the storm and then put it in her pocket and headed for the exit that would take her into the domed city and near to the London hospital.

Ayla walked in through automatic doors and went to the desk and spoke to the woman. 'Hi,' she said, suddenly realising she didn't really know what to say. 'Um, I'm looking for someone but I'm not sure if she is here. She was outside when the storm hit, and she might not have survived. But I have heard that a few survived and I wondered if she was one of them.'

'Name?'

'Ayla.'

The woman looked on her computer. 'No one called Ayla has been admitted.'

'What? No,' blushing now, she self consciously pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. 'I'm Ayla; I'm looking for Amanda Smythe.'

The woman tapped some keys on her keyboard. 'There is a patient of that name in ward one hundred, are you a relative?'

'I'm her friend.' Under her breath she added, 'well I was.'

'No, I can only let you up to see her if you are a relative. Sorry.' The woman smirked as if she was anything but sorry.

'Oh okay, at least I know she's alive.'

'Yes, yes,' the woman waved her away. 'I have a lot of people to see, there's a queue growing behind you.

Ayla headed for the automatic doors, she knew that there was no way she would be able to get up to ward one hundred, no without a pass to open doors. She walked into a man. 'Oh, I'm sorry,' she said, trying to edge her way past him.

'It's Ayla isn't it?' the man said. 'You and my Amanda used to be friends. I remember seeing you during the test.

Ayla's eyes widened at the mention of the test.

'Are you here to see Amanda? I'm sure she would love to see you.'

'I just wanted to know she was okay.'

'Yes, yes, come on.' He pushed her passed the desk where the woman sat speaking on the phone and to a door where he swiped a card.

'I should warn you, she's not like the Amanda you knew. She was burned very badly.'

'She was the one who hid under a wheelbarrow wasn't she?'

'Yes.' They reached a lift and he swiped his card again to open the doors. They stepped in and he pressed the ward one hundred button. 'She is such a clever girl, no one else would have thought of hiding under a wheelbarrow.' He wiped a tear out of his eye as the lift moved between floors.

A ping sounded and the doors of the lift opened up into a white corridor, with a pair of double doors opposite.

'She's in there,' he said, heading for the door. He pushed it open, and then picked up a small bottle on the wall, and squirted some liquid into his hand. 'To kill any germs,' he said, passing the bottle to Ayla.

She quickly did the same and then followed him down the corridor, small wards and single rooms on each side, past a nurse's des and into a room at the end.

A girl was lying in the bed in the room. Wired up to monitors, a mask on her face, lines in her arms, she turned her face towards them. A red, burnt face, her hair just a blackened mass around her head.

'Ayla,' she said and started to cough, great racking coughs that shook her body. 'I'm so pleased to see you.' She tried to smile, but it came across as a grimace, and made tears pour down her cheek.

'Amanda,' Ayla felt tears in her own eyes. The girl in front of her was nothing like the one she had known.

'I'm a bit of a mess aren't I? The nurses' won't let me have a mirror to see my face but I expect that it is pretty bad. It hurts like it is.' She giggled.

'She's drugged up to the eyeballs,' Amanda's father explained why she was giggling.

Ayla nodded her head.

'It could have been you in this bed,' Amanda said. 'If I hadn't got my dad to help me. If the professor hadn't let me win in exchange for his money.' She sighed. 'You know when we saw the storm, we panicked. Ran for the door, I was nearly there, when he grabbed me, pushed me out the way and closed the door so no one else could get in. They were all out there banging on the door, while the other one that had managed to get in was trying to get him away from the door so he could let us in. But the professor wouldn't let go. I realised then I was going to die, unless I found some way of surviving. And then I saw the wheelbarrow. I tipped it over, squeezed myself under it, and waited until the storm had gone. It protected me, but still heated up and burnt me. They don't say anything, but I know they are worried I might die, and even if I don't, no one will ever want to look at me.' She started to cry. 'Ayla, I'm so sorry for the way I've been. Please, tell me we are still friends.'

'Hush. Of course we are still friends.'

Ayla spent hours with Amanda that day and when she finally arrived back in Oxford; she went straight to her dormitory and fell asleep.

In a dream Ayla walked through a garden, her bare toes touching velvety petals and leaves that sent up an aroma more intoxicating than anything she had ever experienced before. The air was full of tiny butterflies, their coloured wings fluttering like mini rainbows. She could hear the whoosh of water nearby and soon came to a waterfall, cascading deep into a pool of gently lapping water. A man rose up out of it, and walked to the shore. Droplets of water fell from his long brown hair and onto his white tunic where they instantly dried. By the time he reached her, he was totally dry.

'My child,' he said taking her hands in his own. 'Long I have waited for the girl who is to be the end of the beginning.'

She shook her head. 'I don't understand what you are on about,' she said. 'Where am I?'

'You are in the garden, the beginning of the beginning, where my people started and where they will one day return to.'

'Oh.'

'The time is short; you are the beginning of the end.'

Ayla gasped. 'That's what the girl in my dreams said, the one also called Ayla.'

'Yes, and she is right. Your time is short, soon everything will change. The world is damaged, my people have damaged it.'

'No, it was the storm.'

'That could never have got through the ozone layer in past years. The storm has come many times to your world; it had covered part of it many times, but seemed harmless then. Called the Northern lights, they were just a pretty display but with the ozone gone, they are different. The ozone layer was created to protect your planet from such things, I know because I was there, I created it. But ten years ago, what had started over one hundred years before was completed. It was gone and now the Earth has no protection. So man has destroyed my world.'

Ayla looked at her bare noses, peeking through blades of grass. 'I'm sorry,' she said.

He lifted her head gently by her chin and stared into her eyes. Brown eyes into grey blue. 'My child, I have not abandoned my people, despite their corruptness and stupidest, I will always be with them. Providing for them. You are the beginning of the end, everything will change soon. You will have a new beginning and you will lead the way.'

'But I am no one.'

He smiled. 'You are far more than you realise.'

'I don't know. What about the test? How can I lead people when I've been accused of doing such things?'

He squeezed her hands and then kissed them. 'Believe me,' he said. 'You can trust me to sort that out. Now go.'

With a whoosh, she felt herself flying backwards, away from the man, away from the garden. To her bed, where she woke up, sat up and could still feel the touch of the man.

'Fear not, for I am with you,' his voice echoed in her ears. 'Be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.


	25. Ayla, 2085AD Part Two

Over the next days, Ayla pretty much forgot about the dream as she visited Amanda in hospital. The girl was often in and out of consciousness and not always coherent when she was awake so Ayla would sit in silence on those days, with either Amanda's father or mother. Sometimes she would hear the mother weeping about Amanda's lost beauty, and sometimes she would hear her father ranting about the professor.

And then came the day when she was walking through the tube station again and picked up a free newspaper. She read the headline twice.

'High up professor in the Horticultural society arrested for causing the death of his staff and trainees.'

Ayla gasped and read more.

'Professor James Wright has been arrested following the deaths of his staff and trainees during the recent storm. He pushed his way into the airlock, but then barricaded the door so no one else could get in sitting he was afraid that the storm would get into the city. Though anyone who knows anything about the airlocks knows that they have a triple protection system and the storm at the most could only have breached the first or second layer. After rigorous examining of his paperwork, it has also been ascertained that he was in the business of being paid to pass children, therefore taking not the best but the most privilege. A witness has come forward to say that he often sabotaged the tests of other students to make sure the student that was paying was the best. Trial will be in two weeks time.'

Ayla stared at the words again, reading them over and over. Then she turned back around and headed back to the car that had brought her to London. She wanted to get her teacher's advice on whether she should come forward.

'Mrs Zdoni,' Ayla said as she ran into the teacher's classroom.

'Ayla, what are you doing here? School has finished for the day.

'I know, but I was going to see Amanda, the girl burnt in London by the storm, and I saw this.' She put the newspaper down on her teacher's desk, the headline showing.

'I've seen it. It's excellent news.'

'Do you think I should come forward and tell them about the test? How he cheated me out of a place. How he accused me of damaging trees.'

Her eyes glinted. 'I think you will find that he has already admitted to everything, including his treatment of you.' She opened the paper to the fourth page. 'He had no choice really, his paperwork betrayed him.'

'So no one believes I hurt those trees?'

'No, he has even said that he knows that it wasn't you that hurt your tree and that you looked after it really well, making sure that even with the damage it survived.'

'He did?' She smiled and then frowned. 'Oh Mrs Zdoni, I hadn't thought, but my little tree, the storm, it must have been burnt up.'

Mrs Zdoni patted her shoulder. 'I'm afraid so, all the trees outside our city are gone. But think, where we are going soon, there are plenty of trees, and they are protected by a dome.'

'I guess so, but it is still horrible that it is gone.'

'But not in here,' she gently tapped the side of Ayla's head. 'You have your memories and the knowledge that tending that little tree gave you. Knowledge that will help you in the future.'

A few weeks later, and they piled onto couches, about to leave behind most of what they knew and heading off into the unknown.

Ayla had few belongings with her, a bracelet that had been her mother's, and a letter her father had written. A couple of books she'd managed to get hold off about healing with herbs and some of her more serviceable study clothes, light jeans that would protect her legs but if they got wet, dry out quickly. T-shirts, a couple of jumpers. She hadn't been allowed to take much, none of them had. They'd been told that they would be supplied with what they would need, including extra clothes, bedding and shoes as well as cooking implements and things that they would need every day.

Now she sat on the couch, her oxygen mask dangling around her neck and looked out at the massive domed city of Oxford, her home. She was excited about going, but in reality it hurt to leave the area she'd grown up in, where she'd been born, where her parents had lived. She wiped a tear from her eye and listened to their deputy headmaster, Mr Bruce, who was standing at the front of the coach.

'We will be setting off in a minute; I'm going to be travelling in this coach while the headmaster and the other deputy will be travelling in the other two. We will be travelling down with you, and I will be staying in France while the other two will be returning to Oxford for the younger children. Those teachers on this coach and the other ones will be staying in France too. Just in case you don't know them all, I will introduce them. Mr Hunter, will you stand up?'

A man stood up near the back of the coach.

'Mr Hunter teaches year thirteen, the seventeen to eighteen year olds. He has been particularly chosen to join you all because like his name,' he smiled. 'He likes hunting which is something you will all have to learn to do. Now if Mrs Dean would stand up?'

Mr Hunter sat down and near the front of the coach a woman stood up.

'Mrs Dean is in charge of year twelve, the sixteen to seventeen year olds. She is also an excellent cook, who can make anything. She will be in charge of making sure that all food is properly prepared and cooked as well as adding sometimes necessary taste to a meal. Now Mrs Zdoni, could you stand up?'

Mrs Dean sat down and Mrs Zdoni stood up.

'Mrs Zdoni has only been with us a short time but has already proved herself invaluable. She teaches year eleven, the fifteen to sixteen year olds. She is an expert in herbs and using them for healing. She will be in charge of the healers, teaching them, and making sure they only use their skills in safe ways.'

Mrs Zdoni nodded her head and smiled and then sat down.

Mr Bruce looked around the coach. 'And we seem to be missing a teacher.'

Ayla looked out of the coach and saw a man running to them, an oxygen mask over his face.

'Mr Spencer,' Mr Bruce exclaimed as the man reached the coach. 'Put on your masks everyone; seems we have to open the doors.'

Ayla quickly put on her mask, and then heard the whoosh of the door opening. Mr Spencer rushed on, and once the door was shut, took off his mask.

'Mr Spencer is an expert in being late,' a fourteen year old shouted.

'I'm so sorry,' Mr Spencer gasped, blushing as he saw the full coach and everyone staring at him. 'My alarm clock didn't go off.'

'Well take a seat man,' Mr Bruce said in an irritated voice. 'Mr Spencer teaches year ten, the fourteen to fifteen year olds.'

Mr Spencer walked down the aisle, nearly knocking a boy out with his bag. 'Sorry,' he said as he saw an empty seat next to Mrs Zdoni. 'Is anyone sitting there?' he asked.

She shook her head and stood up. 'Let me help you with your bag,' she said, as he nearly hit a girl in the face with it.

'Oh thank you,' he replied, a smile lighting up his face. 'I really am sorry, am I really late?'

Mrs Zdoni demurely shook her head and took his bag off him and put it in an overhead locker. She sat down.

'If you are quite finished talking and distracting everyone Mr Spencer,' Mr Bruce said. 'Can I finish?'

'Oh yes, yes,' he sat down next to Mrs Zdoni.

'Mr Spencer's speciality, alongside his ability to be late for most situations and very clumsy, is he is very good at making clothes. Now that might seem like something that is pretty unessential, all our clothing and needs will be met from outside the dome we are heading too. But there might come a time when we have to rely on what is available which would be animal skins. Therefore that is what he will be doing, teaching you how to use the skins of the animals that are killed for food. We also have other teachers and helpers in the two other coaches, some of who also have specialities and some who will support them. Now if everyone is strapped in, we can set off.'

'So you're the new teacher?' Mr Spencer asked Mrs Zdoni as the coach travelled down the road.

'I am,' she replied.

'And what can I call you? Besides Mrs Zdoni.'

'Oh I have many names, but you can call me Zoe.'

'A lovely name for a lovely young woman.'

Mrs Zdoni smiled. 'You'd be surprised at how old I really am,' she said, a twinkle in her eyes.

'Why you can't be more than twenty five, thirty at the most.'

'Oh I'm much older than that.'

'You can't be as old as me, I'm in my fifties.'

Mrs Zdoni, or Zoe for short, just grinned. 'Like I said...'

Ayla was the first one to see the sea. They'd been travelling for a few hours when she saw a sparkle up ahead and as they turned onto a coastal road, she saw that the blueness of the sea stark next to the scorched land and beach. They kept on travelling past, until they came to a building where men in masks were standing next to a barrier. When they saw the school insignia on the side of the coach, they waved them through, lifting the barrier.

They drove into a large building, shutters shutting behind them before they could leave the coach.

'Hurry up,' Mr Bruce said, especially staring at Mr Spencer.

They walked through a door into a train station and then to a platform where they boarded a train. The train jolted as it started, heading towards a dark tunnel that would take them under the sea to France.

It wasn't a long journey; they arrived in another train station half an hour later where they boarded another bus, with South of France Project insignia. Then they travelled for another three hours until they reached the city of Paris where they would stay the night.

That evening they were led into a large room filled with tables. There were banners on the wall. 'Paris welcomes the students of England.'

As Ayla looked around, and headed to a table, she realised that she didn't know many of the young people in the room, she knew those closest to her but those on other tables were from different schools, different towns and cities. She wondered what these people would be like, would they be hard workers and try their best, or would they be annoyed they had been made to come by the government.

'I know that you don't know everyone,' a voice said from a far table.

Ayla glanced over and saw it was one of the men who had come to Oxford to tell them about the project. Francois.

'We would like you all to mix with others from different schools, so I am going to say a table and then read the list of the people who will have their food there.' He started with table one.

Ayla found herself assigned to table nine where they were served with a chicken casserole that a French student called Coq au Vin. It was served with crusty bread and creamy butter. For pudding they had crème caramel, set custard with a caramelised sugar topping. She had never had it before but really liked it. She just about stopped herself licking the bowl.

After dinner, they were led into a hall, where they were told more about what was going to happen.

'Whatever table you have been assigned to tonight, that is your group. Tonight, each group will share two dormitories with another group. So group one and two will share two, group three and four another two and so on. When we arrive in the project tomorrow, this is the group you will stay in.'

Hands flew up into the air.

'I know you thought you would remain in your school groups, even your teachers did but we have decided that it would be better to split you up, so you get to know each other. We might even rotate the groups in the future. That way, if you get into trouble and none of your school friends are around, you all will know that others will help you.'

They were led up to their dormitories, glancing around at each other nervously. One of the girls tripped on a stair, earning laughter from some of the boys.

'Leave her alone,' Ayla spat, glaring at them as if she was daring them to say a word to her or laugh at her. She helped the girl stand up, and half carried her up the last steps. 'Are you okay?'

The girl nodded her head, tears were in her eyes, and she was biting her lip, but she just kept on climbing the stairs.

At the top the boys, thankfully, went one way, while the girls another. They were led into a bed filled room. Ayla helped the girl to a bed and then bent down and examined her leg.

'It's just scraped she said,' pulling a pot out of her bag. 'My teacher has been teaching me to make herbal remedies, this will help with healing and make sure there is no infection,' she said as she rubbed cream over the injury.

'Thank you,' the girl said and then gulped. 'Are you frightened?' she whispered.

Ayla looked at her quizzically.

'We have been made to leave our homes and all we know, and now will live in a totally different way. I can't help feeling scared.'

'You will be all right,' Ayla grinned. 'By the way, I'm Ayla and I'm from,' she stopped what she was saying for a moment and frowned. 'I used to be from Oxford.'

'Oh I'm Katie and I was from a little town near Manchester.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah, most towns haven't been domed but my one, well its special, has a tower in it. For a long time it's been a holiday destination, so they wanted to make sure it survived. I'm from Blackpool.'

When they arrived at the project the next day after spending most of the day travelling, the driver stopped the coach at a large building. Ayla and the rest of her group got out, wearing their oxygen masks. They were taken into the building where they were met by the other man who had visited Oxford.

Jon smiled when he saw them, a dimple appearing by his mouth. 'Welcome. To those that don't know me, my name is Jon and I will be the leader of this group. I was born in France but had an English mother and grew up speaking that language and visiting England, both before and after the storm. I have been chosen to lead your group because of this, and know of some of the challenges you will face but I also know the project having been part of it for the last five years.'

'I thought our teachers were going to be our leaders,' a girl shouted from the back of the room.

'No, they will remain teachers. They are there to teach you and will move between the groups teaching their skills, though each one will be assigned a group to live with. But for the moment, they are staying in Paris for further training and won't be joining us for a week. In that time I am hoping that you will have all started to acclimatise to the project. Any questions?'

A girl put her hand up. 'Are there really no toilets?'

Jon grinned. 'There are toilets, but they are known as long drop toilets. They are basically a hole in the ground with a wooden surround to sit on.'

The girl gasped. 'Are they out in the open?'

'Of a sort, yes, but we have them in secluded areas and they are surrounded by a barrier so anyone walking pass can't see you. We have also put a barrier between each one.'

'And everyone uses them?' another girl asked. 'Even the boys?'

Jon laughed. 'Yes, the boys and men use the long drop toilets but we have dug two lots, one for females and one for males.'

Ayla frowned. 'Dug?'

His eyes twinkled at her. 'Yes, we have to dig them, and when one gets a bit smelly, we fill it in. Now if there are no more questions then we should get on. If you follow me, we will get you kitted out.'

When Ayla stepped into the project she was astounded. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw, certainly not the last ten years of city life and occasional journeys through a barren land, and not even her faint memories of before the storm. Even the photos she'd seen on her I-book or the ones that they'd shown on the screen in Oxford hadn't shown her what it would be like. Nothing had given it justice. She was surrounded by trees, and in the distance she saw more. Trees whose leaf laden branches reached high up to the sky, to the dome in a cacophony of green. Flowers grew around the base of the trees, pretty petals in all colours of the rainbow.

'Come on,' Jon said, leading the way down a little dirt path that meandered through the trees.

Packs on their backs, they followed him, trying not to trip over tree roots that had invaded the path.

Little birds flew up above their heads, twittering song to each other. A squirrel sat in a patch of sunlight, eating a nut and scurried up a tree when it saw them. Tiny insects danced from leaf to leaf, sunlight catching on their wings.

'This is amazing,' Ayla said with wonder as they walked. 'It's just wonderful.'

They walked deeper into the wood, passed rabbits foraging in long grass, nearby they could hear the sound of water. Jon led them towards it and coming out into a small clearing, they saw a fast moving river flowing into the distance.

Ayla moved closer and could see fish swimming through the water.

'Careful,' Jon pushed her back from the bank. 'Don't want you falling in the river.'

Ayla nodded her head and sighed. 'This is all so beautiful.'

Jon looked around at the trees, the river, and the bright blue sky. 'This is how life was meant to be on Earth before we humans damaged it. And even before the storm, there were areas like this, but not many of them had been domed in time to save them from it.' He sighed. 'We will camp here tonight.'

'Ayla,' Jon said. 'Can you help me make a fire?'

'Yeah okay,' she agreed. 'Though I must admit I have no idea how to make one.'

'It's easy, come on I will show you.' He walked back through the trees, bending down and picking up a dry twig.'

Ayla frowned. 'I thought you didn't use wood for fires?'

'We don't chop them down to burn, but we do use what has already fallen from them. It would only rot anyway, might as well be used to make a fire so we can have a hot meal.'

'Oh, I suppose that makes sense.' She smiled and picked up a dead branch. Suddenly she felt itchy, as if something was crawling over her. She looked at the wood in her hands and saw the line of insects running over her hands. 'Eugh,' she groaned, quickly throwing it on the ground, flicking the bugs from her hands and stepping back.

Jon laughed. 'You are going to have to get used to bugs Ayla. In fact I'm surprised you didn't see any when you were planting your tree.'

Ayla stared at him. 'You know about the test?'

'Yes I do, and I also know that you were cheated out of a place on the horticulture course. I surprised that someone who wanted to go on that is afraid of a few insects.'

'A few?' she shuddered. 'There were loads of them.'

He just laughed.

Angry now, Ayla started searching for more twigs, but made sure there were no bugs in them before she picked them up. Then she followed him back to where they were making camp.

'Just put them down here,' Jon said. 'And then can you get me some rocks? Ones a bit bigger than your hands.'

'Are you sure I'm capable?'

He glanced up at her, his blue eyes twinkling brightly at her. 'I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't think you were capable.'

'Oh right,' she stomped off to the river bank and soon found some rocks. Picking up two at a time, she took them back to Jon and went and got more.

'Brilliant,' he smiled at her. 'Can you put them in a large circle and then we will break the twigs up within it and start the fire.'

She nodded and did what he said and then sat back on her haunches and watched as Jon lit the fire.'

'What are we going to cook over it?' she wanted to know. 'Are you going to send someone out hunting?'

'No, whoever I sent would probably get lost. Much better to get to know the area before hunting, and as we aren't where we are going to live yet, then no one can know the area.'

'I bet you do.'

'Well yes, but I've been living in the project for the last five years.'

'Oh.'

'Anyway, everyone has had a really long day today, what with the coach journey, getting kitted out and then the walk here. I don't think anyone would be up for hunting tonight. But to make it an authentic meal, I've brought along a couple of dead chickens. Thankfully they've already been plucked, so now this fire is going, we need to make a frame for a couple of spits to roast them on.'

Eating hot chicken, the sun going down but creating glorious colours in the sky above the dome, Ayla sighed and leant back.

'Happier?' Jon asked.

She nodded her head. 'And exciting and more than a little nervous too.'

'Your life is totally changing so I think those emotions are totally understandable. It was hard enough for me, and I could have gone back to my city, but for you, well Oxford is behind you.'

She wiped a tear from her eye.

'I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you.'

'Oh you've not. So what happens next?'

'Everyone goes to bed.'

'What? No. I mean what will happen tomorrow and the days after.'

'Ah.' He threw another twig onto the fire. 'Tomorrow, we will hike our way to our camp. It's all ready for us, just waiting for us to get there.'

'It must be very big. I mean our group is like, what, nine people, and there are at least thirty groups. That's two hundred and seventy people in one place.'

'There are actually thirty nine groups, and each one will have ten people in them. Eight students, one leader, me, and a teacher. So that's...' he tilted his head to one side as he tried to calculate the numbers.

'Three hundred and ninety,' she said helpfully. 'Three hundred and ninety people, we'll be tripping over each other.'

'No you won't. You see, the project covers one hundred miles squared; now some of that land is mountainous, but the rest is suitable for camps. Each camp will only have two groups in it, so in our case, we will share our camp with just one other group. So twenty of us. Other camps might be nearby or might be fifty miles away from us.'

'Oh I see.' She started to muse over this, wondering what life would be like now.

'Anyway, like I said. Everyone is going to bed. I think it is time we all turned in, we have a long walk to do tomorrow.'

Ayla nodded her head and headed to her pack, taking out a cotton sleeping bag, which she got in. Zipping it up, she turned on one side and fell asleep.

She was walking on a rocky incline, down to the mouth of a cave. No, not a cave, she realised in her dream state, it wasn't a cave, more of a sheltered ledge, with a big stone hanging over it, shading it. There was a man made structure built to one side from which she could hear the neigh of horses. She could also hear voices.

'Jonokol has told me he will be leaving the Ninth Cave when we go to the Summer Meeting,' a woman said, her voice sounded familiar.

'Well, you expected it,' another familiar voice said.

Ayla inched forward and looked into the shelter; she saw a couple of horses, and a small one that was obviously just born. She also saw two women, one she recognised as the girl who had the same name as her, but she was older. She was holding a baby. The other, a large woman with brown hair, had her back to her.

'Have you decided yet if you are going to be my new acolyte?' the older woman asked.

The girl called Ayla looked down at the straw strewn floor and then back at the woman.

'I think you have no choice. You know you will feel the call one day, perhaps sooner than you think. I would hate to see your potential destroyed, even if you were able to survive it without support and training.' From the way the older woman was standing it was obvious she was staring at the younger woman.

Ayla saw a struggle happening in the younger woman, as if she was trying to break away from a commanding stare. But then her face changed. From the depths of her being, or the pathways in her brain, she found a resource.

Even from where she was standing, Ayla could feel power rising in the young woman. She saw her hold the gaze of the older woman. In that moment she looked wild, her blonde hair flying around from a breeze coming from where Ayla was. It gave her a look of something indescribable, a look of strength, of mastery, of authority.

The older woman glanced away from an instant and when she looked back the younger woman was looking at her with a knowing smile.

The infant in the young woman's arms began to move as though something was bothering her, and her attention went back to her child.

It was obvious that the older woman was stunned; you could see that from the way her hands were shaking. She turned to leave and that was the first time Ayla saw her face.

'Mrs Zdoni,' she said to herself, feeling rather shocked herself. 'It's Mrs Zdoni.'

Mrs Zdoni looked back at the younger woman named Ayla too. 'Tell me now you are not Zelandoni, Ayla,' she said quietly.

The younger woman flushed and glanced around with uncertainty, as though trying to find some escape. 'I will tell Jondalar,' she said, then quickly looked down at the baby.

When she awoke the sky was dark and full of stars but this slowly faded into the golds and oranges of dawn, soon followed by the whole area lightening as the sun rose.

The sight of it was so astonishing and beautiful to Ayla, who was used to waking up to see the underside of a bunk bed, that she forgot about her dream, letting it drift back into her subconscious as she unzipped herself from her sleeping bag ready for a new day.

She soon found out she wasn't the only one up, Jon was already sat by the side of the fire, prodding it with a stick, stirring the embers, putting more wood on.

Ayla watched as he turned embers into a roaring fire, and put a kettle of water over it to heat.

And then he turned and smiled at her. 'Good morning.'

'Good morning,' she mumbled back, rifling in her bag for her tooth brush, toothpaste and a flannel. She headed towards the river.

'Ayla, stop,' he said.

'What?'

He loped over to her. 'You were going to clean your teeth using the water from the river weren't you?'

'Well, yeah.'

'Well don't. It will pollute it. You need to take a bowl and fill it with water and then take it to a place I've set aside for you ladies this morning.' He pointed to a shaded area, where the tree branches nearly reached the ground. 'You can relieve yourself at the back of it.'

Ayla nodded and turned to look for a bowl.

'Here you are,' he handed her a clay one.

'Thanks,' she walked to the edge of the river and filled the bowl and then headed toward the shaded area. Just before she got there, she stopped and turned around. 'Are the boys using this area too?' she shouted, cringing when some of the others flinched in their sleep.

He shook his head. 'I've made another area for us lads.'

She nodded her head and then walked through the branches. Putting the bowl carefully on the ground, she headed to the back of the area, and emptied her bladder. Then she went back to the bowl and had a wash and cleaned her teeth. Then she went and emptied the water over where she'd emptied her bladder.

Going back into camp, she saw that some of the others were starting to move, heading for the area she'd just left or the one set aside for the boys. She put her wash things away, rolled up her bedding and packed that away and then after rinsing out the bowl, took it back to Jon.

'Thanks,' he said, taking it off her and putting it in his pack. 'I could show you how to make one if you want.'

'I'd like that,' she smiled. She nodded to where water was bubbling in the kettle. 'Do you need some help?'

'He nodded his head. 'I'm making us some tea to drink before we start but I can't decide what flavour we should have.'

'What have you got?'

'Normal tea, lavender and chamomile, strawberry and rosehip tea and I've also got some ginseng and peppermint tea.'

'Well I wouldn't do the lavender and chamomile tea, not unless you want to stay here another day. It tends to aid sleep. Best to keep that for the evening.'

'Oh, then one of the other ones?'

'She nodded. 'The ginseng and peppermint one would probably be best, the taste of peppermint always wakes me in the morning and ginseng is known for giving people energy. Is it in a box?'

'Yeah.' He handed the box to her.

She looked at the nutritional ingredients. 'There's only a small amount of ginseng in this,' she said, handing back the box to him. 'You have to be careful about using ginseng if you have high blood pressure, but the amounts of it aren't enough to harm anyone. It should just give everyone a bit of extra energy today.'

'Good,' he opened it and took a couple of sachets out and put it between nine cups. Then he poured in the boiling hot water and allowed it to steep.

'You know, if we are supposed to be living off the land, we shouldn't be using packaged stuff,' Ayla said. 'We should make our own.'

'And we will, once everyone knows what they are doing.' He handed her a cup and then went to give everyone else theirs.

She sipped her tea, and watched a bird fly off into the distance, and for a moment she remembered her dream. But she just pushed it to the back of her mind. She'd been having dreams about the other Ayla for some time, but Mrs Zdoni appearing in the dream; it had to just be her subconscious acting up. She was sure it was just a coincidence.

By mid morning, Ayla was starting to get tired. They'd been walking for a couple of hours by then, through a dense forest of trees that seemed to get thicker with each step. The branches hung down low for much of the time, and kept hitting her in the face. This was made worse by the roots that kept tripping her up. But when it started to rain, plastering her hair against her forehead, she had really had enough.

So rain water dripping down her nose, she struggled to carry on walking. And as she walked something to her didn't seem quite right. And then she realised what it was.

Jogging up to where Jon was leading the way, and falling flat on her face into a puddle on the way, because of a tree root, she grabbed his arm. 'Why is it raining?' she asked. 'We're inside a dome, the weather shouldn't' be able to get through but still we are getting wet.'

He smiled. 'Since this rain started all I have heard is grumbling. You are the first person to question it. And I can tell you, it isn't proper rain because we'd need clouds for that. No this is just one of the times where the project is watered, it is done regularly. Different parts at different times. We only have to walk a short while longer and we will have cleared it. In fact, if everyone had got ready a bit quicker this morning, we would have been through before it started.'

'But why do they do that?'

'The trees need water that is the way they get it.'

'Oh okay, I guess that makes sense.'

'They usually do it at night but they held it off so we would be able to sleep without getting wet.'

'Right.' Suddenly she realised the rain had stopped but when she looked around, she could see a shower of water. On one side the ground was wet and on the other, the side she was on, it was dry and warm.'

After a quick lunch, they had started walking again. An hour later Jon led them into a camp, people already walking around it.

'Hello welcome visitors to our camp,' a boy ran up to them.

Jon arched an eyebrow at him. 'Yours?'

The boy nodded his head enthusiastically. 'It's great isn't it?'

'Yes it is, but then I would think so as I set it up,' Jon almost growled. 'What's your name?'

'Beven.'

'Okay Bevan, tell me who your leader is and where I can find them?'

'I um, I think she's with some of the older boys and girls. Over by the meadow.'

Jon nodded his head and started marching off.

'Is he your leader?' Bevan asked.

'Yes,' Ayla answered as she hurried after Jon.

She found him at the edge of a flower filled meadow, his arms around a girl.

Ayla watched as Jon with his arms around the girl, picked her up and spun her around, making her scream with delight. Then he put her down, turned her face to look up at him and kissed her on the lips.

Ayla felt something slipping inside her. She felt stupid, dumb and silly. She'd started liking Jon, his good looks helped, but his knowledge of the project and how to survive in it had really attracted her. But now she would have to put those fledging feelings aside, ignore them because he belonged to someone else. 'I should have known he would never like me anyway,' she thought. 'Obviously he's going to go for a girl his age than a silly fifteen year old.'

But still she felt her heart crushed, like someone had put a heavy rock in there and weighed it down.

She was just about to turn when he saw her.

'Ayla,' he said, lumbering over to her like an eager puppy dog. 'Ayla, this is the leader of the other group we will share our camp with. This is my girlfriend Mariana.'

She nodded, tried to smile. 'I...' she stammered and then gulped. 'Where should we put our things?' she managed to save herself.

'I will show you,' he said, and turning around to Mariana, his girlfriend, he kissed her.

Ayla abruptly turned away and started back the way she had come.

'Bye Ayla,' the sound of a girl's voice floated over to her. 'Nice to meet you.'

Ayla could feel tears prickling in her eyes. She turned around to see Jon walking towards her and the grinning, and slightly triumphant, face of his girlfriend staring at her.

'Ayla, are you okay?' Jon asked as he reached her.

'What?' she said, as she looked at Mariana arch an eyebrow at her and then smirk before she walked away.

'You look like you're crying.'

'No, no, just a little dust in my eyes,' she said and smiled up at him, even though it felt like her heart was breaking.

'You have to be careful,' he said. 'Come on, let's go sort out where you all are sleeping tonight.'

Jon led her back to the others and then took them all to the other side of camp where two empty shelters stood.

'Girls will sleep in one and boys in the other. Cooking will either be done on individual fires or on the communal one.'

'Where's the toilet?' One of the girls asked and ran in the direction he pointed to.

'It has been decided that when the group is led by a male, then one of the female teachers will be assigned and vice versa so the girls will soon be joined by a female teacher. Now if everyone wants to get settled, we can take our bags into our shelters and get sorted. I have already organised tea which will be ready when the sun sets.'

Ayla walked into the girls' shelter and put her mat on the ground, her sleeping bag on top. She put her bags by the wall and then sat down.'

'Are you alright Ayla?' Katie asked. 'Has something happened?'

'No, everything is fine,' Ayla smiled, but didn't really feel happy.

Jon led her back to the others and then took them all to the other side of camp where two empty shelters stood.

'Girls will sleep in one and boys in the other. Cooking will either be done on individual fires or on the communal one.'

'Where's the toilet?' One of the girls asked and ran in the direction he pointed to.

'It has been decided that when the group is led by a male, then one of the female teachers will be assigned and vice versa so the girls will soon be joined by a female teacher. Now if everyone wants to get settled, we can take our bags into our shelters and get sorted. I have already organised tea which will be ready when the sun sets.'

Ayla walked into the girls' shelter and put her mat on the ground, her sleeping bag on top. She put her bags by the wall and then sat down.'

'Are you alright Ayla?' Katie asked. 'Has something happened?'

'No, everything is fine,' Ayla smiled, but didn't really feel happy.

That night after an evening meal of roasted meat and grain cakes, they all went to bed and Ayla started to dream.

She was stood on the bluff on the mountain next to a heavily pregnant girl that looked just like her. She was dressed in furs and looking out over the forested land where just in front of a line of trees people could be seen.

'Visitors,' the girl shouted, waddling back to a cave to tell everyone. 'There are visitors in front of the forests, coming in this direction.'

Ayla followed her.

'We haven't had any visitors for ages,' a child shouted with glee.

The pregnant woman smiled at him. 'I bet they will have lots of stories to tell us,' she giggled to the child.

There was a commotion at the front of the cave and Ayla turned to see men and woman standing there, tattoos on their cheeks.

'Kayla,' one of them smiled. 'You look wonderful.'

Ayla gasped when she heard the woman speak and looked at her as she touched the young woman, Kayla's stomach.

'Mrs Zdoni?' Ayla whispered to herself. The woman did look like her and also like the woman she had seen talking to the other Ayla in her dream of the night before.

Suddenly as dreams tend to, it shifted and the woman, Mrs Zdoni, was standing by Kayla's parted legs as she strained to bring her baby into the world.

'The baby is round the wrong way,' Mrs Zdoni shouted. 'It's coming bum first.'

Kayla was groaning.

Ayla, who had never seen a birth before felt like fainting. Especially after what Mrs Zdoni said and did next.

'She's going to rip.' Mrs Zdoni picked up a stone, sharpened to a thin slice and made a quick nick to Kayla's perineum, making the space for the baby's bottom being born bigger. 'Now push with your next contraction,' she told the new mother.

And then the baby was born.

'Welcome to the world little one,' Mrs Zdoni said and passed the bawling child to her mother.

The next morning after a breakfast of porridge made with water and honey, as well as oats, Jon and Mariana took both groups to the meadow. To a cleared out area.

'Have any of you ever fired a gun?' Jon asked.

A boy put his hand up. 'My father used to take me to the firing range,' he explained.

Jon nodded his head. 'Well what we are going to do today is not fire guns, but some of the skill you learnt doing that will come in useful now. Now can anyone tell me, if we don't use guns, what other weapons can we use to hunt?'

The boy frowned. 'Why can't we use guns?'

'Why do you think?'

'Um,' he scratched his head. 'Because the bullet might ricochet and break the dome's glass?'

'No.' Jon shook his head. 'The dome's glass is too thick to be broken by a bullet, so thick you could almost walk over it.'

'Like Blackpool tower?' Katie asked.

Jon shook his head. 'Blackpool tower isn't made of glass.'

Katie giggled. 'I know that, but it right at the top of the tower there is a glass floor for people to walk over. If that broke, whoever was walking over it would fall to their death.'

'Why would someone want to walk over a glass floor at the top of a tower?' Mariana asked.

'I think it is something from the twentieth century, they thought it was exciting to walk over it.'

'Oh okay.'

'People from Blackpool are dumb,' a boy said.

Ayla turned at his voice, she recognised it and she also recognised the boy who had spoken the words.

'Broden?' she gasped as she saw someone from her class in Oxford. 'I didn't see you last night.'

He shrugged. 'Saw your ugly face and decided that I would avoid you,' he sneered.

Ayla rolled her eyes. She was used to his ways, but would have preferred to have almost anyone else where she was but him. Even Amanda in her full glory would be preferable.

'Oy,' Jon intervened. 'There will be no bullying in this camp.'

'Yeah right, whatever,' Broden scowled.

Not for the first time, Ayla wondered why he was so horrible. Unlike her, he hadn't lost his parents; they were good people, pillars of the society of Oxford. He had a lot to be thankful for, but was still nasty to those around him.'

'Just ignore him,' Katie whispered. 'I've met his sort before; they think they are better than everyone else.'

Ayla nodded her head.

'Okay,' Jon clapped his hands. 'Back onto what we were talking about. Today you are all going to have a go and using a bow and arrow.'

Ayla timidly picked up a bow, looking at the curved wood with a string slung from the top to the bottom. She touched the string, feeling how tight it was. Then she picked up an arrow, and tried to slot it onto the string. It fell on the ground. She tried again, pulling the string and arrow back, and then let go. It flew, right into the ground at her feet.

Jon came to help her, putting his arms around her so they could both hold the bow together. He slotted an arrow onto the string and aimed it towards the target he'd set up. Letting the string go, the arrow flew through the air until it thudded into the target. 'You have to aim Ayla,' he said. 'Look through the feathers of the arrow at the target, aim the arrow towards it.'

She nodded and tried again. This time the arrow flew through the air, but too high, it fell to the ground half way between her and the target.

'Keep practising,' Jon patted her on the back and went to help someone else.

She tried again and again and through that trying and her perseverance and despite Broden nudging her, eventually she started to hit the target.

'Good,' Jon smiled when he saw. 'You're a natural.'

Ayla blushed. 'Thank you,' she mumbled and turned to look back at the target.

'I wonder,' Jon said, mostly to himself.

Ayla turned back to him. 'What? What do you wonder?'

'Back in a minute,' he walked to the edge of the field and back to the shelters. A few minutes later, he was back, with something in his hands.

'What's that?' Ayla asked, putting down her bow.

He passed it to her, a strip of stiffened curved leather in the middle of a rope.

'It's called a shepherd's sling,' he said. 'Named after the Biblical story of David and Goliath.'

'Oh, what does it do?'

'It's used for hunting,' he took it back off her and slipped a stone into the leather and then started to spin it around by his side. Suddenly he launched it forward, casting the stone towards the target where it hit and splintered the bark of the tree. Then he turned to her. 'Would you like a go?'

She nodded her head and took the sling in her hand. She felt almost reverent about it, she didn't know why but when she put a stone in the leather, she felt a prickle at the back of her neck. She spun it around like Jon had, whizzing it around, making a whooshing sound. She felt a firm pair of hands on hers; helping her to spin it, and then helping her cast the stone. She watched as it flew through the air.

'Try it with two stones,' a voice whispered in her ear.

'Two stones?' She turned to ask Jon why he had suggested two stones but he wasn't there. He was stood where he had been, a look of admiration in his eyes.

'You are a natural,' he said.

'Only because you helped me.'

He frowned.

'You did just help me with this sling didn't you?'

He shook his head.

'But I felt your hands, and heard you say...' Suddenly she realised that the voice she had heard had not been Jon's, it couldn't have been his voice, his male voice. The person who had spoken had been female and her voice familiar. She had heard it many times in a dream.

A few days later when Ayla left her shelter in the morning, about to head for the long drop toilet, she heard Jon and Mariana talking to someone by the fire. A man was sat down on a log, facing in her direction. He was glancing around the camp as he spoke. A woman had her back to Ayla but the way she tilted her head, the way her hair was tied were familiar.

'Mrs Zdoni,' she shouted and ran towards the fire.

The woman looked around and smiled at her. 'Ayla, it is lovely to see you again.'

'Are you staying?'

She nodded her head. 'I am. I asked to be in this group so I could continue to teach you about herbal healing.'

'Mrs Zdoni is going to teach our groups,' Mariana said and looked at her nails. 'Though I doubt there is anything she can actually teach me.'

Ayla rolled her eyes, shutting them for a moment. When she opened them again, she smiled at Mrs Zdoni. 'You will be in our shelter,' she said. 'Would you like me to show it to you?'

'That would be very nice,' Mrs Zdoni said, rising from the log she was sat on. She looked at the other teacher and Jon and Mariana. 'If you would excuse me,' she said allowing Ayla to drag her away.

That night Mrs Zdoni light snores drew her into sleep. And another dream. She was stood once again on the bluff of a mountain, but there was no pregnant girl next to her. Instead the ground under her feet was shaking and she could see smoke pouring from a crater higher up. Down below where there had been forest was now cleared and a little village had grown up. Not much more than mud huts really, animals raised nearby.

Ayla felt a tug and was dragged forward so there was nothing under her feet. She felt herself pulled towards a girl who looked like she had done a few years before. She was staring up at the mountain with horror. She was holding a little lamb which was struggling to get away. And then what appeared to be snow started to fall; only it wasn't snow but ash.

Ayla had reached her then and could see what she saw. A stream of orangey red liquid bursting from the mountain she'd been stood on.

'It's a volcano,' Ayla said to herself as she followed the girl

'Motherrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!' the girl was screaming as she ran to a hut.

A woman came out of the hut and a second later a burning rock fell on it, catching the straw roof on fire.

'Everyone out,' shouted the woman.

People in panic ran out, screaming, shouting, pushing and in the midst of them came a woman, a large woman, a woman she knew. She wasn't scared about what was and that was when she saw her. Mrs Zdoni serenely walked from the hut, helping others, letting them lean on her.

'I'm obviously been missing her, if I'm dreaming of her,' Ayla muttered to herself and immediately found herself in a different place. Instead of choking ash, there was the smell of sweet flowers.

And a man, the man walked towards her. 'Your dreams are real,' he said. 'What I allow you to see is what has already passed.'

'But how can it be? How could Mrs Zdoni be there in that time and here in mine? And who is the girl that looks like me?'

The man just smiled. You will find out in time,' he promised and then waved his hand.

Ayla felt herself move again, but she didn't go back to the ash laden air but another place, colder. She saw a weary group of people climbing out of what was not more than a carved out tree and stand on a shoreline that somehow she knew was England but a long long time before her time.

They spent the next few weeks just getting to know the area but eventually they were allowed out in small groups and Ayla took the opportunity to visit the nearest camp to theirs.

She wasn't alone, Mrs Zdoni and Katie came too and the teacher pointed out plants along the way that could be used for healing.

'That's an Iris,' she said, pointing out a purple flowered plant. 'If it is mashed down and added to boiling water, turned into a poultice, then it is brilliant for beating infection in a wound.'

'Should we gather some of them?' Ayla asked.

Mrs Zdoni shook her head. 'We'd be better coming back here on the way back to get some.'

Ayla nodded her head and followed the other two down a dirt path.

'This is Chamomile,' she bent down and pointed at some white and yellow flowers. They can help with digestion and make a mild wash for wounds.'

'Ooh, I could do with some of that,' Katie said. 'My twenty first century stomach has been struggling to cope with the meat and grain diet we've been having recently.'

'Well we will get some of the way back,' Ayla said. 'And Mrs Zdoni can show me how to prepare it for you.'

Mrs Zdoni nodded her head.

They walked passed a grove of trees, filled with apples and stopped to pluck some off and eat and rest for a while. And then they carried on.

They stopped by another plant, one with tiny frothy white flowers. 'This is Yarrow and makes an excellent tea for curing headaches.'

And this was the way they learnt; as they walked through the forest Mrs Zdoni taught them some of her great knowledge.

As soon as they reached the other camp, set up very like their own, Ayla was accosted by a shrieking girl who threw her arms around her.

'Teresa,' Ayla smiled, hugging the girl back. 'It is good to see you again.'

'Isn't it wonderful here,' Teresa garbled but then saw their teacher. 'Mrs Zdoni,' she shrieked. 'You got Mrs Zdoni as your group's teacher? My group just got a teacher from Sheffield. He's really boring.'

'Give him time Teresa,' Mrs Zdoni advised. 'He will be getting too used to this environment like us all.'

'I guess,' Teresa smiled and grabbed Ayla's hand. 'I've got something to show you,' she said, dragging her to the side of one of the shelters.

And that was when Ayla realised how different this camp was, there were looms set up, and someone, maybe Teresa, had been busy making material.

'I don't know if you have seen any of the goats,' Teresa said. 'My leader Nata says they are mostly found around the mountains. But some stray as far as here. We've been going out each day and collecting the fur they've left behind. Nata showed us how to make it into thread and how to weave it.'

Ayla looked at the material on the loom. Some of it was a light grey while other parts lighter, some even white.

'I've tried to weave stars into the material,' Teresa said.

Ayla nodded her head. 'It looks wonderful.' She reached out and touched the material. 'And it's so soft. Katie, feel this.''

Katie touched the material too. 'It's lovely,' she smiled at Teresa. 'You are very talented.'

Teresa blushed.

'Have you met Katie before?' Ayla suddenly asked. 'I don't think you have. Katie, this is my school friend from Oxford, Teresa. Teresa, this is my new friend Katie, she came from one of the only domed seaside towns, Blackpool.'

'I think I went there once,' Teresa smiled. 'When I was little, before the storm. I remember eating candy floss.'

'My favourite,' Katie grinned.

Teresa led them into the centre of the camp. 'Maybe Mrs Zdoni can have a talk to our teacher, might make him a bit less boring,' she whispered.

Everyone was eating when they arrived, sitting around a big fire, but the leaders and teachers welcome them and soon they were eating a meaty stew.

'How are you finding life Mrs Zdoni?' the male teacher asked. 'It is very different to what we are used to.'

'Indeed it is,' Mrs Zdoni said.

They chatted for a while and then the three of them started to walk back to their camp, after promising Teresa they would visit again soon and telling her that she was welcome at their camp too.

Nearly everyone was asleep when they got back, so they all went to bed too.

Ayla dreamt she could hear a girl crying. The sound sometimes loud and sometimes soft, but they didn't stop. She saw a girl nearby, tears on her face.

'Why are you crying?' she asked but the girl didn't answer, just disappeared, faded away but the crying continued.

And that was when she realised that the crying wasn't part of her dream. She forced herself up through the clouds of her dream and opened her eyes to the dark interior of the shelter.

And she could still hear crying.

Throwing off her bedding, she stood up and through the dark walked towards the sound, trying not to trip over the others sleeping.

She could see a little light coming through the doorway and headed for that.

'Hello,' she called. 'Are you okay?'

She saw a dark shape crouched by the dying embers of the fire. A head turned towards her but she couldn't see the face that was in shadows. Only hear the crying had stopped for a moment.

'Ayla?' a voice squeaked.

Ayla frowned. 'Katie? Is that you?'

'Yes,' the voice said with a sob.

Ayla stepped closer. 'Are you okay?'

'My stomach,' Katie said. 'It really hurts.'

'It does?' Ayla bent down by the fire and put some kindling on it. Then she blew the ashes until it started to burn again.

Katie was now visible in the light of the flames. Her face was pale, sweat on her forehead and she was pushing her hands against her stomach.

'I think I need some of that chamomile tea,' she said and was promptly sick.

'I'll get Mrs Zdoni,' Ayla said and rushed back to the shelter where she found the woman and shook her gently to wake her.

'Whaaaatt?' Mrs Zdoni slurred, still more than half asleep. 'Who's that?'

'It's Ayla. Katie is outside and she's not very well. She says her stomach hurts but from the look of her, she needs more than chamomile tea.'

Mrs Zdoni nodded and put a dressing gown around her shoulders and put her boots on. 'Where is she?'

'By the fire.'

They walked out together to fire and found Katie riving on the ground, squealing with pain.

'Go and get Jon,' Mrs Zdoni said, as she put a pan of water over the fire to heat. 'Tell him how ill Katie is. I think she probably needs to go to hospital.'

Ayla nodded and ran over to the other side of camp where the boys' shelters stood. She stood at one of the entrances and shouted through the doorway. 'Jon.'

'What's going on?' a boy's voice said.

'Shut up, we're trying to sleep here,' another one muttered.

'What's wrong?' Jon's voice came from the shelter.

'It's Katie, she's really ill. Mrs Zdoni asked me to get you.'

'Okay,' Jon said. 'I will get dressed and be over in a minute.

Ayla started to move away and then looked down at herself. She'd been so concerned for Katie that she was wondering around in pink fleecy pyjamas with ducks on. She glanced towards the boys' shelters and saw a couple of the boys pointing at her and laughing.

'Shut up,' she said as she ran back to the girls' side. First of all, she went into her shelter and put on a dressing gown and her boots and then went back to the fire.

Jon was there when she got there and he was frowning.

'I don't like the look of this,' he said. 'I agree. She needs to go to hospital.'

'But we are miles away from a hospital,' Mrs Zdoni said. 'She needs help now. I will make her a tea to help with the pain.'

'Yes, you do that,' Jon said, in a distracted voice. 'I will go and inform the project organisers that we need an extraction team here as soon as possible.'

He ran off.

'How will they get here?' Ayla asked.

Mrs Zdoni shrugged. 'I don't know, but I hope they aren't too long.' She looked at Ayla. 'There's a bag in my belongings, it is made of fur and filled with packets of herbs. Can you get it for me please?'

Ayla nodded her head and ran to the fire. Taking a branch waiting to be broken up from the pile, she broke off the side branches and stuck the top in the fire until it was well alight. Then she went back to the shelter and stuck the other end in the soil near the entrance so the light shone into the shelter.

'What's going on?' one of the other girls asked, blinking at the light that flooded half the shelter.

'Mrs Zdoni needs her bag,' Ayla said, heading over to where the teacher slept. 'It's got herbs in it that she can use for healing and pain relief. Katie is ill.'

'Oh I think I've seen that,' the girl said, pushing back her cover and standing up. She walked passed the other still sleeping girls to Ayla. 'She put it in her backpack.' The girl knelt down and opened the bag, pulling out what looked like a very old bedraggled fur bag out. She opened up its flap and looked inside to where there were little packages of herbs, some wrapped in paper and some wrapped in leather. She passed it to Ayla. 'Do you need any help with Katie?'

Ayla shrugged her shoulders. 'I guess. She's by the fire with Mrs Zdoni but if you are coming I suggest you put something over your nightdress. Jon is there too.'

The girl nodded and grabbed a pair of leggings, pulling them on and putting a fleece jacket over her nightclothes. She grabbed her boots and stuffed her feet into them.

Together they went back to the fire.

Katie was screaming now, bent over double, she clutched a rolled up blanket to her stomach.

While Ayla had been getting the bag, Mrs Zdoni had put another blanket on the ground next to the fire. She looked up at them and half smiled and half frowned. She took the bag off Ayla.

'Can you and, um...' she looked at the girl next to Ayla. 'I'm sorry I don't know you name. Can you both put her on the blanket and try to get her a little more comfortable?' She pulled a package out of the bag and opened it. Taking a little, she put it in the now boiling water. Then she took the pan off the fire and put it on a stone to cool.

Ayla and the girl, meanwhile, had moved Katie.

'It hurts Ayla,' she mumbled, the only thing she said coherently.

'I know,' Ayla said, tears prickling her eyes. 'Help is on its way.'

'She's really ill,' the girl said after they had moved her. My little sister was like that years ago. It turned out she had appendicitis.'

Ayla looked at Katie, and then at the girl. 'I hope it isn't,' she shuddered.

'I fear it is,' Mrs Zdoni said. 'I just hope it isn't too advanced but I fear it probably is. She was complaining this afternoon of a sore stomach wasn't she?'

Ayla nodded her head. 'What have you made?' she pointed at the cooling pan of water.

'Something to help take the pain away. Green grams, ground up. If this is appendicitis, then it will help fight the infection. I would have given her some willow bark too but Jon said he'd been given some tablets for an emergency. He's gone to inform the project organisers and to get their permission to use them.'

'They will give permission won't they?'

'They'd better.' Mrs Zdoni had almost growled and went to test the temperature of the water. 'I think it's cool enough to drink,' she said and strained some of it into a cup. 'Ayla, can you get her to drink this?' she passed the cup to Ayla.

Ayla nodded her head and walked over to where Katie was whimpering. She helped her to sit up and held the cup to her lips, so she could sip the liquid. She choked a bit on it, but managed to drink it in the end. She had just about finished when Jon came back, followed by Mariana.

'I've called the project co-ordinator and he is sending a rescue team here. Should be here within the hour,' he panted, passing a packet to Mrs Zdoni. 'It's Tramadol,' he said. 'A form of morphine.'

Mrs Zdoni nodded her head and ripped open the packet and took two tablets out of the blister pack. She walked over to where Ayla was still helping Katie drink the best of the green gram liquid and bent down.

'Katie, I have some pain relief tablets here, they are very strong and should at least take the edge of your pain.'

'Okay,' Katie's voice quivered.

Ayla took the tablets off Mrs Zdoni and put them on Katie's tongue. Then she put the cup back to the Katie's lips so she could gulp the rest of it down.

Ayla laid her down then, but stayed next to her holding her hand. 'You will be fine,' she said, over and over again.

The girl who had helped Ayla earlier came over and took her other hand.

Bit by bit, Katie stopped thrashing around and by the time the rescue team had arrived, flying a helicopter near the roof of the dome and coming down to land in the nearby meadow, she was asleep.

'She will be okay,' the girl said as they watched men carrying Katie off in a stretcher.

'I know,' Ayla wiped a tear from her cheek. She turned to the girl. 'Thank you for tonight,' she said.

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

'I don't even know your name.'

'It's Erica,' the girl said as she reached out and took Ayla's hand. Squeezing it.

Together they watched as the helicopter rose into the air, and headed off to the edge of the dome from which Katie would be taken to a nearby city hospital.

It was going to some time before Katie could come back. She spent about a week in hospital, having her appendicitis removed. But they wouldn't let her back into the project until she was totally better and healed up, so although they heard through Jon what was happening, they didn't see her.

And in that time, Ayla started to know the area better. She often went out collecting plants for medicinal needs and for food with Mrs Zdoni, learning all she could from the woman. And then other days she would join the hunts, using her sling to catch rabbits and other small animals, or her bow and arrow to hunt larger ones.

Each night they would prepare the meat, and the hides for clothes and shelters. Soon she was going out on her own, doing her own thing and talking to the trees again.

Sometimes she missed Oxford though, and wondered how everyone else was doing back there.

One night, she dreamt of a building, one that she had visited when she was ten, one that was in the open air, just stones propped up to stand on end in a circle. Or at least that was how it had been when she visited it but in her dream, she saw another circle, a wooden one and saw the starts of the great stone circle that one day she would visit.

And she saw one of the huge stones as it was dropped into the ground, crush a man's foot. She saw two women run to help him, one young like herself, could have been her, and the other was Mrs Zdoni. She watched as they took him to a nearby shelter. She listened to them as they started to treat him.

'Isala,' the woman who looked like Mrs Zdoni said. 'I can't save it; we are going to have to amputate.'

'Okay mother,' the girl obviously called Isala gulped, her voice trembling. 'What do you need?'

'No, you can't take my foot,' the man shouted.

'I'm sorry Andrar,' the woman tried to calm him. 'But if I don't cut it off, then you will get an infection in it, which will mean you would lose your leg, if not your life.'

Ayla watched as Isala started boiling water and going through a bag very like the one Mrs Zdoni had used when helping Katie. She saw her putting dried leaves in six bowls, pouring hot water over them. She gave one of the bowls to the woman.

'Henbane tea,' the woman said and helped the man to sit up and drink it. 'This will help, it is for pain relief,' she smiled and then after laying him back down went to examine the rest of the bowls.

'This is good Isala, I am proud of you.'

The girl, Isala, nodded her head and grinned but then looked at the man with a worried expression on her face.

The dream moved on, and Ayla saw the woman who looked just like Mrs Zdoni, holding a stone knife, holding it over the foot of the man. She saw her hand come down as she started to cut. She saw blood squirting out, covering the woman and girl, soaking the bed the man was on.

And then she woke up. And looked around her at the dim interior of the shelter.

'What on earth are these dreams about?' she whimpered. 'Was that Mrs Zdoni she saw, and the girl who looked like her, she called her mother.' She shook her head in confusion and pulled back her bedding. She wanted to go for a walk.

Weeks turned into months and months into years, and in that time Katie had returned, well and healthy, bringing along a scarred and changed Amanda. Away from the influence of her father, the two girls once again forged a friendship, looking out for each other, helping and assisting with each other's tasks.

It was like the past twelve years hadn't happened and at seventeen years old, they were as easy in each other's companies as they were when they were five.

Of course times were hard, for the last two years they had had to learn a new way of life, hunting, gathering, and caring for nature whilst still having the knowledge of the late twenty first century.

Some days they would spend hours together, alongside other friends like Katie and Erica and other days they would all do their own thing.

So one day over two years after she had arrived in the project, now confident about her surroundings, Ayla would wander the forest. But that day she went much further than she usually did.

She had been standing by the side of the river collecting a plant that grew there when some small rocks shifted under her feet and she fell with a splash into it. Dragged along by its current, she tried to keep her head over the water, tried to shout for help and eventually she managed to grab onto a rock and pull herself out of the river. But by then she was a long way from camp.

She could have followed the river back or gone to one of the nearer camps but instead she decided to do some exploring.

She found a hut first, alongside what must have once been a road that ran along a cliff face, until it was forgotten. Now there were weeds growing out of cracks and the trees roots were pushing it all up, as if they were trying to destroy any evidence that it had been there. The hut was dusty and abandoned with peeling painted walls and a hole in the roof. Inside was a mess, spider webs hung from wall to walls and the floor strewn with dead leaves that had blown in through the open and broken door. In amidst them were faded leaflets, their print indistinct. Photos showed what looked like the interior of a cave. She stepped outside and looked at the trees, overgrown edging the cliff, she could just make out a dark shape between some of them, like the entrance to a cave. The cave in the leaflets. There were two large stones either side that looked like they'd fallen long ago. There was a gate blocking entrance into the cave, only it was open.

It creaked as she opened it, as she walked into the dark interior of the cave. Going back out, she found a couple of torches in the hut, along with some batteries. Going back in the cave, she swept the torch light around, looking at the walls.

For a moment she thought she was dreaming, because somehow she could see an older woman standing in the cave. She was dressed in hide and for a moment she thought it was Mrs Zdoni again, but then she realised though the woman had grey streaks in her blonde hair, she was the girl that had first taught her about healing, the one with the same name. Ayla, and she was crying.

Ayla stepped towards her and watched as she seemed to fade within the wall. She frowned and then blinked.

'I'm awake,' she suddenly realised. 'I'm awake but I'm still dreaming or seeing the other Ayla. What is going on?'

She sat on the dirt ground until the batteries in the torch started to die and then glanced outside. It was growing dark. There was no way she would be able to get back to camp that night.

'I'll stay here,' she said aloud, looking nervously over her shoulder as if she expected to see a ghost.

She went back outside and found a couple of blankets, dusty but okay, in the hut. After good shakes of them, they were okay. She also found some matches and after striking one and realising it was okay, she started to gather some kindling to make a fire, deciding to make it within the cave.

And so Ayla, the new, spent the night in the home of her ancestor.

Over the last two years Ayla had grown used to the strange dreams which always had a girl or woman who looked like her or one who looked just like Mrs Zdoni. She had seen a couple with a child fleeing an evil woman whilst another woman, remaining hidden, had also followed them and settled where they had settled. And another girl who had stood next to a woman that looked like Mrs Zdoni as the man from Ayla's dream was crucified. Attila the Hun, the Plague in Eyam, Salem's Witch trial and so on. Wherever a girl who looked like Ayla was, there was also a woman who looked like Mrs Zdoni. She'd herded a girl into a room to keep her safe during a massacre and looked after a lost baby until the mother, another Ayla lookalike had arrived. She'd been a cook in a great castle, trying to protect a girl from being raped and in a kitchen while a bedraggled and road weary girl had saved the people from a disease. So when Ayla found herself in another strange place and saw the two, she didn't flinch, in her dream, but just watched.

In the dream, she was stood next to massive iron wrought gates, with gold and black coat of arms on them. Behind the gates was a large white building, one that she recognised from both the history books and also from a school visit as Buckingham Palace.

Next to her was a girl, dressed in a nineteen forties nurses' uniform, with a navy blue cape over it all, she was talking to herself.

'What if the royal family are even now sat beside a window looking out over the city? The little princesses could be pointing at me right now.'

She smiled.

'They'd invite me in for tea and bread and jam,' she chuckled. 'The King would let me try on his crown.'

Ayla saw her look around nervously as if she was scared that she had been speaking too loud and would get into trouble.

'If anyone hears me, they might throw me into the Tower. They might behead me,' she snorted and then sighed. 'To the royal family I am nothing but a lowly peasant. Not worthy of their notice.'

Ayla watched her as she walked away.

A woman stepped out of the shadows. She was wearing a long brown trench coat that was pulled up to her neck. On her head she wore a black felt hat, a ribbon around it. She'd pulled it over her face a bit, so her eyes were in shadows, but still Ayla recognised her as Mrs Zdoni.

She looked towards Buckingham palace and then at the retreating back of the girl. 'You're not a nobody Anya,' she said in a soft voice, that Ayla could hardly hear. 'Your family are royals themselves, descended from Richard the second who had his thrown stolen from him. They just don't realise it yet. But one day your descendant will take her proper place as the Queen of all.'

She turned around and looked straight at Ayla.

Ayla woke with a start, half expecting Mrs Zdoni to be standing in front of her. She wasn't, or at least Ayla couldn't hear any breathing but her own, but she couldn't see anything so she couldn't be sure. The fire had died during the night so the cave she was in was dark. For a minute she felt frightened, thinking she was trapped below the ground, buried alive but then she remembered the tiny doorway and headed, crawling on her knees, towards it. She found that it was morning outside. She could hear birds singing in the day nearby. She stared at the orange and gold lights slowly turning into bright yellow as the sun rose properly.

That was when her stomach rumbled; she put her hand to it and felt the vibration within of an empty stomach. Thinking about it, she was thirsty too and also needed a toilet. She walked into the hut and though it didn't flush anymore, found a toilet to empty her bladder. She also found a sink and when she turned the taps, saw water run out of them. It was obviously still connected to the water sources that served the cities. She let the water run for a while, rooting in the cupboards while she made sure that the water wasn't stagnant. She found an old can of beans but no can opener so put it down again. She'd also found a cup, dusty with spider webs in but it would do. She quickly washed it until it was clean and filled it with the water.

Gulping down mouthfuls, she thought about her stomach and filling it. Thankfully she had her sling wrapped around her arm.

First of all, she got more kindling and built up the fire in the cave again.

Taking her sling off her arm, she walked quietly into the trees, picking up a couple of stones on the way. Senses alert for the slightest noise, she stood and waited. Pretty soon a bird blew from a high branch to the ground, obviously looking for worms of its breakfast, little realising that it might be someone else's first meal of the day. She put a stone in her sling and started to spin it, slowly at first, she stood like a statue, only her arm moving.

Faster and faster, and somehow the bird didn't hear or notice, too busy eating worms.

And then she threw the stone, replacing it instantly with another that she also somehow threw. Both thudded into the bird's body.

Ayla walked over to the still bird, lying on a bed of leaves and picked it up. Then she walked, plucking out its feathers on the way. She grabbed a couple of straightest branches on the way, using one to skewer the bird and the others to hang the first over the fire.

With a full stomach, Ayla decided that she should get back to the camp. She was certain that everyone must be worried about her by now. She just hoped that no one was out looking for her.

With one last look at the cave, and then she started to walk. Through the trees, stepping over roots, climbing up a crumbly small cliff, jumping over a brook. She walked for ages, not really sure she was going in exactly the right direction and hoping she would find another camp that could lead her back to her own, or at least tell her the way to go.

She was thirsty again then, so stopped at a stream and dipped her hand in the water, drawing it to her mouth. Then she started walking again.

The sun was high now; starting to beat down on her but because of the thick glass didn't burn her skin.

And then she saw smoke up ahead. Coming from a small house.

'At last,' she said to herself. 'Hopefully someone there will be able to help me get back to camp.' She started to walk towards the house.

A pair of arms came around her shoulders, and she was jolted off her feet.

'Hello Ayla,' a voice whispered in her ear. 'Nice to see you again.'

She started to turn to see who it was; she had recognised the voice but then felt something hit her at the back of the head. The last thing she knew, as she fell to the ground, her face on the grass, was the sight of a pair of leather shod feet next to her.

She woke up tied to a tree. She was in a little glen, a blue pool nearby, and the late sun was dappling on the leaves as night drew in.

She groaned and wanted to put her hand to her head but they were behind her back, behind the tree trunk. She looked around for he attacker.

'You're awake,' he said, grinning madly at her.

'Broden, what are you doing?'

'Ayla, Ayla,' he said as he walked over towards her. 'I'm getting revenge.'

'Revenge? For what?'

He smirked. 'Well there is the way you have always been a smug so and so in class, thinking you are better than anyone else. Or the fact you got to try out for the test when I wanted to. Or just that I don't like you, and want revenge for the fact you were put in my camp.'

She stared at him, saying nothing.

'But really none are the reason I want revenge. In fact the reason isn't really about either you or me. It goes back further than that, further than our parents, or our grandparents. Back to nearly a hundred years ago when your great great grandmother hurt my great great grand uncle, crippling him, making him unable to have children of his own and making false charges against him that meant he spent most of his life in prison. Our family promised that one day they would make her pay, but it never happened. Then it was decided to make her family and descendants pay and that is where you come into it all. You are going to pay for the crimes of your ancestor.'

'But I don't know anything about her...'

'Yes you do. You've seen her weird paintings and used to talk about her all the time when we were younger. You made me so angry back then but I wanted to make sure that I made you pay properly and to do that, I to do it away from any company. So when I realised you'd gone walkabout, I decided to track you down, find you and make you pap.'

'But...'

From what I've heard about her, she was a stroppy cow. You are too, though I can't believe she was worse than you.' He took a knife out of his back pocket.

'Leave me alone,' she shrieked. 'Help, help,' she screamed, hoping that someone, anyone would hear her cry for help and save her.

'The rest of the camp think you went the other way,' he sneered. 'I made sure of that. Got my friend Mariana to take them in a different direction, she leads that fool Jon around like a donkey anyway. He'll do whatever she wants.'

'That's not true.'

'Isn't it?' he chuckled. 'She hates him you know, much prefers me. Big brute of a man he is anyway. Just a giant idiot.'

'You're dreaming,' she snorted. 'You can tell from looking at her, she loves him.'

'Then you are mistaken. She only loves his position in the project. Been using him to pull herself up higher for years but now, well let's just say that she had been given a promotion and is going to be leaving the project soon. And I will be going with her, leaving poor Jon behind.' He laughed. 'Not that you will see any of that. You won't see anything once I'm finished with you.' He slapped her across the face and then put his knife under her chin. 'Say goodbye Ayla.'

She closed her eyes, expecting the cold steel to cut into her throat at any moment. She could sense him standing over her; feel his stagnant breath on her face.

There was a cracking sound, and suddenly the sun was brighter through her eyelids. As if something or someone had moved out of the way. She opened her eyes a little and saw him lying still on the grass, a broken tree truck by his bloodied head.

A grey headed old woman, dressed in furs, bent down and picked up the knife. She walked towards Ayla.

'Don't hurt me,' Ayla managed to squeak out.

'Hush child,' the woman said. 'You are safe,' and she cut the ropes that bound her to the tree.

Ayla looked at Broden. 'Is he?'

The woman nodded her head. 'I hit him a bit too hard but I had to do that to save you.'

Ayla stood up and rubbed her wrists.

'How are you feeling?' the woman asked. 'Do you feel up to a little walk?'

Ayla nodded her head. 'Who are you?' she asked.

The woman smiled, her face crinkling along every wrinkle. 'My name is Hope.'

The old woman, Hope, led her through the trees to the little home she'd seen earlier. Smoke was still pouring out of the chimney and then gusted away by the extraction ducts built into the dome. Stepping inside, she smelt the aroma of a meaty stew fighting the smell of freshly baked apple pie. She sniffed deeply.

'Are you hungry?' the woman asked, pulling out a chair at an old battered wooden table. 'Would you like some of my casserole?'

Ayla nodded, her eyes agleam when she saw Hope lift a lid off a pan and ladle stew onto a plate.

'Here you are dear.' Hope put the plate down on the table in front of Ayla and passed her a knife and fork. 'Eat up, you look half starved.'

Ayla didn't need to be told again, she immediately picked up her fork and dug into the food. She put a mouthful in her mouth and closed her eyes, as flavour curled around her tongue. 'This is good,' she said as she gulped it down and put more in her mouth.

'Glad you like it,' Hope said. 'It's a recipe I learnt from my step mother, a long time ago. She was an excellent cook.' She tilted her head as she looked at Ayla. Frowned. 'You know, you remind me of her.'

'I do?'

'Yes, you have the same coloured hair, and the eyes, blue grey, yes, you look just like her.' She shook her head. 'But ignore me; I'm just a silly old woman who has lived far too many years. Would you like some pie?'

'Yes please, I would love some,' Ayla said, as she savoured her dinner.

She looked around as she ate, noticing that there were only women's shoes in the corner and only a woman's coat hung up. 'Do you live here alone?'

'That I do,' Hope said as she carried a bowl to Ayla. 'Used to live in England once, had a husband and children, but when they died, well I came here. This little home has been in my family for a long long time. My father used to say that we had ancestors from the ice age that used to live in a cave not far from here. Laugerie Haute.'

Ayla's eyes widened. 'I found a cave not far from here.' She fished in her pocket and pulled out one of the faded leaflets. 'Yeah, Laugerie Haute, a cave occupied in the ice age. I slept there last night. There is a hut outside and a gate into the cave.'

'Yes, that's right. My father and step mother used to take us there in the summer holidays. We'd stay here, my father added rooms to the original hut, and visit there during the day. I remember standing at the back, imaging living there with loads of other people. Fires ablaze, smoke in the air.' She smiled.

Ayla shuddered. 'I know what you mean. While I was there, I thought, no, it's silly.'

'What?'

'I thought I saw a ghost, or an echo of someone who used to live there, a long time ago.'

Hope nodded. 'Maybe,' she winked at Ayla as she took the empty bowl and plate off Ayla, replacing them with a cup of steaming liquid. 'I will make you up a bed where you can sleep tonight. You look exhausted. Drink your tea, it's chamomile.'

'Ah,' Ayla sniffed the liquid. 'For restful sleep.'

Hope stared at her with amazement. 'Yes, it is. A drink my step mother taught me to make.' She scratched her head. 'Maybe you are more like her than just your appearance.'

Ayla woke up in the night, but somehow the room she was in was different. No longer was she is a warm bed, a fireplace burning nearby but in a cold and dusty bed, three girls next to her. She stood up and looked at them. Looked at their ripped clothes, the dirt on their faces. Cuts on their hands and feet. One of them was familiar, she looked like Ayla.

Then she saw a man come in. Shutting the door, he put a bag by it and sat down with a sigh. Then he turned around and saw the girls on the bed. His face turned red and he threw back the chair and stomped over to the bed.

'What are you doing in here?' he shouted.

One of the girls, the one that looked like Ayla sat up and blinked blearily around.

'This is my cabin,' the man ranted. 'What are you doing in my cabin? And eating my food too.' He flung a hand to indicate dirty plates sat on the table.

'I, I, I'm sorry,' the girl stammered, putting her arm around her friend who had started to cry. 'We didn't think anyone lived here.'

'Well someone does, me,' he stabbed his chest with his finger. 'This is my cabin, my place to be alone. I don't expect people to just come in and make themselves at home like they own it.'

'I'm sorry,' the girl pulled back the blanket and got out of bed. 'I'm really sorry.'

'Get out,' he screamed. 'This is my place.'

'But we haven't got anywhere else to go,' the third girl said and then started crying.

'Where are we supposed to go,' the second girl said in a timid voice. 'We don't even know where we are.'

'Where you are?' The man stared at the girls. 'What do you mean you don't know where you are?'

'Because we don't,' the girl like Ayla wailed, the tears falling down her cheeks. 'We don't know where we are, we don't know who you are, and we don't even know what day it is.'

The man sat down on a chair. 'How can you not know that it's Christmas day?'

'Christmas day?' her chin started to wobble. 'It's Christmas?'

'Well, yeah,' the man said.

'My parents must be so scared for me.'

'At least you have parents,' the third girl moaned. 'I remember last Christmas with my parents; I'll never have another one with them, because of Simon.'

'Simon?' the man frowned. 'Who's Simon?'

'Her brother. And until yesterday, one of our captors.'

'What?'

'He and his colleague have been kidnapping girls and women, trading in them. They were taking us somewhere to sell us, Tunisia I think, when we managed to get away from them.' She looked around, towards the windows and the door. 'They are probably looking for us, we should get moving again.' She bent down to put her shoes on.

The other two girls got out of the bed and did the same.

'We really are sorry for using your cabin. If you give me your details, when we get home,' she gulped. 'If we get home, we will send you some money to pay for it all.' She started to walk towards the door.

'Wait,' the man said. 'I'm sorry about shouting at you. I was just shocked to find three girls here. But you can't go, not if what you've told me is true. Look, I don't live in this cabin, I just come here to fish and think but I've left my car about a mile from here. I can get you to safety. Take you to the Gendarmerie.'

'I don't know,' she looked nervously at him.

'Look, I know you're scared and to trust someone must be hard, especially a man, but I won't harm you, I promise. I want to help you.' He smiled; a hopeful smile that seemed to show no malice or evil thoughts behind it.

'Okay,' she sighed. She looked at the other two girls. 'What do you think?'

They nodded their heads.

She looked back at the man. 'I guess the answer is yes.' She smiled.

'Good,' he looked around the room. 'I think you should have something to eat before we go. You three, sit down. I will make it.' He picked up a bag by the door. 'My supplies,' he lifted it up onto the counter and pulled out some packages.

'So what are the names of my visitors?' he asked as he cut thick slices of bread and spread butter on them. 'I should know who it is who I am cooking breakfast for.' He grinned. 'My name is Frederic, though most call me Fred.'

'This is Bianca and Jeanne and my name is Alana.'

'Alana,' Ayla whispered, staring at the youthful face of her great great grandmother. 'The painter of the paintings.'

Ayla didn't remember how her dream ended; it just seemed to fade away until she opened her eyes back in the little room that Hope had given her for the night. Sunlight was pouring through a crack in the curtains, dust motes dancing in the light and she could hear the woman humming a tune somewhere outside.

She pulled off her bedding and put her clothes on quickly, pushing her feet into her boots. Then she went to find the toilet.

She found another room instead. One full of paintings of a blonde haired girl and woman. Just like the ones in the museum, like the ones that Alana had painted. She stepped closer and noticed a squiggle at the bottom of one, a signature.

'They're wonderful, aren't they?' a voice made her jump and guiltily she looked around.

'Hope.'

'My step mother was very talented.'

Ayla frowned. 'Your step mother painted these? Because they are very similar to ones I have seen in a museum. I've also seen them in a book about my great great grandmother.'

'Alana is your great great grandmother?'

Ayla nodded. 'At least, my great great grandmother painted paintings like these ones.' She stepped closer and looked at the squiggle. And gasped.

'Then I must be your great great aunt.'

'Yeah.' Ayla looked at the old woman and then blinked. 'What did you say?'

'I'm your great great aunt.'

'Yes but...'

'My father was your great great grandfather. You are my great great niece.'

'How is that possible?'

Hope's eyes twinkled. 'I said I was old, ninety two to be exact. My father and your Alana met ninety years ago when I was two. They said at the time that the children that were born then would live to their hundreds. Well, I'm well on my way there.'

'You're ninety two?'

'I am, but I believe I don't look a day over eighty. It's all this living in the wilds of France, as nature intended.'

Ayla stared at her for a moment and then shook her head. 'You really knew Alana?'

'I did, and I even saw her paint some of the paintings here. She was always going on about the girls from the past and how they looked like her. She was right wasn't she?'

'They look like me too.'

'Yes, they do.'

Ayla walked over to a painting. 'This is,' she tapped he head as she tried to bring back her memory. 'This is Delania, she survived the plague in Eyam and this is Anna, her and her family nearly staved in the first Irish famine.'

'How do you know dear?' Hope asked.

'I've had dreams.'

'Alana used to talk about dreams too, but she never knew if these girls were real or what their names were.'

'Oh they were real all right.'

'How strange.' Hope had her hand on the wall, but lowered herself into a chair. She was shaking.

'Are you okay?' Ayla came and crouched by her feet.

'I feel the best I have felt for years,' she replied, touching Ayla's cheek. 'Some people said that Alana was crazy, that her experiences had sent her mad but my father and I always believed her.' She put her hand on her chest and grimaced.

'You're not all right,' Ayla said. 'Let me help you into bed.'

'Stop fussing girl,' Hope batted her hands away. 'When it is someone's time to go, then it is their time. And now I have seen you, I can die in peace.'

'Don't say that.'

'Everyone dies Ayla, everyone.' The last words mumbled, she slumped forward in her chair.

'No,' Ayla screamed. 'I won't let you, I won't let you go.'

'You have no choice,' a voice said behind her.

Ayla turned and saw the crucified saviour in front of her.

'Let her go, it is her time. I have made a room for he and it is ready.'

'But...'

Jesus smiled. 'Just trust Ayla. Trust. Now it is time for you to go.'

'What about Hope?'

'Don't worry about her; just get back to your camp. Time is short.'

Ayla had only walked for a short time, tears running down her face when she heard voices up ahead. Walking in their direction, she found Jon and the others milling around where Broden's body had been left.

And he was sat up.

'She hit me,' he shrieked, holding a bloodied bandage to the back of his head and pointing through the people to where Ayla stood. 'And then left me here to die.'

'What?' Mariana spun around, her face twisting with anger. 'How dare you?' She ran to Ayla, grabbing hold of her hair and pulling. 'Witch.'

'Leave me alone,' Ayla screamed, trying to pull her hair away from the girl.

'Never witch, you can't go around hurting the members of my team and get away with it.'

'I didn't hurt him.'

'Yes she did,' Broden called out petulantly, his bottom lip quivering.

Ayla felt her head was going to be pulled off; Mariana was yanking her hair so hard. 'Let go,' she squealed. 'You're hurting me.'

'Good,' Mariana responded and tugged her hair more.

'Mariana, let her go.' Jon towered over them, trying to force Ayla's hair out of his girlfriend's hand. 'She will be punished for this, I promise.'

'But I didn't hit him,' Ayla said, finally free, but her hair standing up in a mess. 'It wasn't me. It was Hope.'

'Hope?' Mariana spluttered. 'Hope hurt him? Please! Do you think we are stupid?'

'No I don't think you are stupid.' Ayla glared at Mariana. 'Hope is a woman who lives in a home not far from here, or at least she lived not far from here.' She wiped a tear from her eyes. 'Broden had tied me up, was about to hurt me, and she hit him over the head to stop him. She thought he was dead.'

Mariana lurched towards Ayla. 'Lies,' she spat.

'It's all lies,' Broden wept, his face a vision of distress and innocence. 'I didn't do anything to here. She's always been mean to me, even when we were children, she used to pick on me.'

Ayla sighed with exasperation.

'No more,' Jon stared at Ayla with a look of sadness. 'We will go back to camp and have a trial for Ayla.'

'Good,' Mariana said. 'And I know just the punishment for her.'

'Innocent before proved guilty Mariana,' Jon said quietly.

'But isn't that a bit old fashioned now. This is a new world we are living in. The old has gone and the new should take over, or actually the very old should. We have been living a hunters and gatherer way of life for two years now, maybe we should adopt their punishments too. She should be tied to an ant hill for them to bite her to death.'

'Mariana!' Jon sounded shocked.

'What? It's only what she deserves, after what she put Broden through.'

Jon shook his head. 'You seem very protective of Broden all of a sudden.'

'And you her. We shouldn't have gone looking for her, but you insisted. Should have left the girl to wander around before she hurt herself and died.'

'She's part of my team.'

'Yeah, yeah. Anyway, she was part of your team. But not now, not after what she's done.'

'Not proven yet.'

'She did hurt me,' Broden called out. 'She needs to be punished.'

'See.' Mariana glared at Jon. 'You decide, either you are with me and support me, or you are not with me and on her side. Which is it?'

'That's not fair.'

Mariana shrugged her shoulders.

Jon's shoulders slumped and he hung his head down. 'Someone tied her arms behind her back,' he said in a defeated voice. 'And then we will get back to camp.'

Ayla felt her arms pulled behind her, and a rope binding her wrists together. Then someone pushed her in the middle of her back and she stumbled forwards. Just as she walked passed Broden, still sitting on the ground, she looked in his direction.

And he arched an eyebrow at her, in triumph.

'I can't believe she would do such a thing.'

They had arrived back in camp the night before and runners had been sent to the other camps to tell them what had happened and to invite them to the trial. Teresa, Ayla's lifelong friend, had run most of the way to camp once she had heard.

'But that is what she is accused off,' Jon patiently told the irate girl.

'I don't care. Ayla isn't like that. Don't you think I would know? I've spent my whole life with her since the first storm. Shared a dormitory with her. I'd know if she was capable of such a thing. I would have seen something, sometime that would have told me she could be like this. No, I won't believe it, I can't believe it.'

'She has always looked after me,' Katie said. 'Remember when I had my appendix trouble, she helped me then. If it hadn't been for her, then...'

'I know Katie, and I wouldn't have thought she was capable of such a thing myself but the facts are...'

'Wrong,' Amanda weighed into the argument. 'I've known Ayla since I was a little girl. We were friends before the storm and afterwards, were not. But throughout all those years, she never did anything to me, no matter how much I hurt her, or got others to laugh at her. No matter how much I always tried to demean her, she did nothing. Was always kind, and calm and wouldn't have hurt anyone. Broden on the other hand...'

'Yeah,' Teresa agreed. 'He was always playing tricks on people. Putting gum on in girls' hair, having fights and being generally horrible. He used to go around the class, making rumours up about people. This is what he's done now, it's all just lies.'

'I don't like him,' Katie said quietly. 'I often see him watching one girl or another. He's creepy.'

'But he was still hit...'

'But not by Ayla,' Teresa pointed out. 'She said it was an old woman. Has anyone been back to see her? Or gone to look for the ropes that Ayla says Broden tied her up in?'

Jon blushed. 'No.'

'Well don't you think someone should? Ayla said that the old woman had died back there.'

'I know but...'

'But what?'

'Mariana says she is making the woman up.'

'Mariana says something and Jon does what she wants. If Mariana asked you to climb a tree and jump from the top, would you?'

'Of course not.'

'Well, why do you do what she says now?'

His face turned even redder.

'That Mariana has you wrapped around her finger,' Amanda said astutely.

'No she hasn't.'

Mrs Zdoni, coming away from the lonely shelter where they were holding Ayla walked over to them. 'If you are not wrapped around her finger, then show it young man,' she said. 'Stop doing what your girlfriend wants and think for a while. I don't know, you are just as spineless as another man I used to know.'

Jon straightened his shoulders. 'I am not spineless, I will send someone back to where we found Broden and Ayla and look for the rope and the house too. Are you happy now?'

'No, you need to release Ayla.'

'I wish I could,' he said under his breath so only Mrs Zdoni could hear him.

Ayla couldn't believe what was happening, how people who she had thought were her friends could possibly think that she had hit Broden. But she didn't know about the arguments going on outside, she didn't know how none of her believed she was capable of violence and they were actively trying to set her free.

She was also having trouble believing that Jon would put her through the ordeal she was experiencing. She had thought he was a good man, in fact she was sure he was.

'Just controlled by the evil,' she muttered to herself. 'Mariana and Broden.'

And so with those thoughts in her mind she fell asleep, to the worse dream and the best, she had ever had.

She was back in the cave where she had spent the night, but there was more sunlight coming in now. So much that she could see it wasn't actually a cave, more of a ledge and the two stones that had nearly closed it all off were higher up, as if they were hanging in the air. In the light, she could see shelters set around the shelf, no tops to them so the fires within smoked right through the top and were filtered off by a breeze. And she could see the fires within these shelters, or at least a couple as well as a bigger fire nearer the front of the shelf where a group of people were gathered, sitting on logs and talking.

She edged closer to listen.

'No,' one of the women was shouting, who once again she recognised as Mrs Zdoni, or someone that looked like her anyway. 'That's crazy talk.'

'It is not crazy,' another woman who had grey streaks in her blonde hair. 'It is the way of the mother.'

'No it is not. You are asking us to believe that the mother is not female at all.'

'Because that is the truth.'

'No, I will never believe it, and I won't let you tell my people that.'

'Your people, Zolena?' An older man stood up. From the way he held himself, you could tell that when he had been young, he'd been very strong and good looking. Now much of it was withered away into the body of an old man but when he turned she could see he had brilliant blue eyes.

'You are not first anymore,' the blonde woman said. 'You can't take back what you gave away.'

'But I thought you were the mother's tool, almost the mother incarnate but now I see you were mistaken.'

'You are wrong, the mother is male and female and also neither.'

'But you can't tell the people that. Since you came so many years ago, you have brought so many new ideas to our people, and they have been good and beneficial. Now at the end of your life, what you want to give, is anything but.'

'But I will still give it. I am the first of the Zelendonii. When the summer comes, and we go to the meeting, I will first of all inform the Zelendonia and then the rest of the people. It is time they knew the truth.'

'Your truth,' Mrs Zdoni spat.

'No, the truth. I have always been the one for visions, as a young girl when I went in the Mog-urs' cave, it changed me, made me what I am today. But for years I ignored it, wanted to be a normal woman, with a mate and children. You were the one who persuaded me that I couldn't just be normal, that I had to train, had to become who the mother wanted me to be. For a long time I wandered from vision to vision, none of them with any meaning, like the ebb and flow of the sea, I let myself be tossed around. But then a young man came to me in a vision, let me forward, and told me the truth. He said he had been there at the beginning of time, that he had made the Earth. He told me we had a choice, we could follow him, do his work or we could stay as we were.'

'We should stay as we are,' Mrs Zdoni said.

The blonde woman shook her head.

By now Ayla had realised was the other Ayla.

'He said that the world is changing, the ice is going to draw back and many of the animals we know now will die. He said that if we followed him, we could live in paradise, in a garden. We will be able to live happily there, no hardships that we know today, but we have to do his will and be what he wants us to be.'

'I'm happy here.'

'But...'

'No, I don't want it, and I intend to make sure that no one else does. If you continue with this Ayla, I will have to discredit you.'

'No.'

'I'm sorry.' And with that Mrs Zdoni stood up and left the cave.

'Zolena,' the blonde woman shouted. 'Zelendonii.' She ran over to the entrance of the cave.

The man walked over to her, put his arms around her and turned her around. He kissed her on her lips. 'Leave her, if this god is as powerful as you say, then he doesn't need you to fight his battles.'

'But...'

Ayla felt a tremble through her feet, a tickle really but it quickly changed to shaking so she could hardly stand up. She watched as the blonde woman pulled herself away from the man and ran after Mrs Zdoni. The man ran after her.

And then the cave was plunged into darkness as the stones that had hung over for centuries and generations fell. Right where a tearful man and woman were trying to catch up with a stubborn woman who didn't like change.

Ayla's eyes stung then, dust filling them. She started to choke, gasping for air and everything around her was muffled, as if she was wrapped in a pillow. And then the dust started to clear and her hearing came back.

'Ayla, Jondalar,' Mrs Zdoni screamed as she ran up the incline she had just gone down. 'No, no, no, please don't be dead.'

Ayla watched as the woman reached the top and saw the boulders, bodies underneath.

'No,' she shrieked, falling to her knees and grasping the still white hand of a woman trapped underneath a rock. 'I'm sorry, I will do things your way, please, don't die, please.' Tears were falling down her face now.

And there was no answer, the hand didn't squeeze hers, instead a pool of red slowly edged out from underneath the rocks towards Mrs Zdoni.

'They're dead,' Ayla whispered, feeling more shock at that moment than any time in her young life. 'I can't believe they are dead.'

'Please,' Mrs Zdoni looked towards the sky and shouted. 'Please, I will do anything, just bring them back. Please.'

There was no answer.

Ayla had closed her eyes, not able to cope with the grief on the woman's face, or the death so close but when she opened them again, she realised she was no longer by the cave but in a garden again. Through the mist of her dream, she saw the man who had been crucified, Jesus, walk towards her.

'You killed her,' she cried at him. 'She was your servant and you killed her.'

'Death comes to everyone, I do not choose the time, or make it happen.'

'But...'

'Circumstances made it happen. If the Zelendonii hadn't run off, she wouldn't have followed and neither would her mate. They would have been safely away from the stones when they fell. Even if Ayla had trusted me, like Jondalar said, to sort out my own problems, it wouldn't have happened. But it did, and everything was changed because of it.'

Ayla frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'She was going to be my instrument to introduce her people to me. When she died, that was gone. Oh I could have used another, but they would not be the one. There wouldn't be another for a long long time. Not until you.'

'Me,' Ayla squeaked.

Jesus nodded his head. 'But in the meantime, I had to make sure you were born, so I set a protector over your family, throughout the generations, she had protected you all.'

'Who?'

'Oh you know already, you have seen her in your dreams with your ancestors.'

'My ancestors? You mean those girls?'

'Yes, and the woman you know as Mrs Zdoni, she has been protecting your family since that rock fall. The Zelendonii that the first Ayla knew, she is the same woman. Never to die, always to watch and protect.'

Ayla stared at him with shock.

'But she is very tired now, and you are here, so soon she can rest. My good and faithful servant, I will welcome her with open arms, as I did those she served and protected.'

And then they were no longer alone. Young women filled the garden, along with men and children. They were all blonde and all like Ayla.

'These are your ancestors, the ones you have dreamt about. They are at peace now.

Ayla nodded, staring in amazement at the girls. She saw Ayla with a young blond haired man, they were walking hands in hand. And she saw Alana, with a man and a little girl that she called Hope.

Jesus gave her a few moments and then started talking again. The time is short, soon you will be leaving to start your new life. You are the beginning of the end, or the start of a new beginning. You will lead your people to the new and to me.'

'But how?'

He smiled down at her. 'I am with you, I will give you the strength you need. Now go, they are waiting for you.'

Ayla opened her eyes to see Jon standing over her. His face was full of regret and disappointment.

'Come on Ayla,' he said, his voice low. 'It's time for the trial.'

Ayla nodded her head and stood up, arching her back to get rid of the stiffness caused by sleeping in a chair.

'I'm ready,' she said quietly.

He led her out of the shelter and to the main fire, where a temporary court had been set up.

'Mariana is going to trying to prove that you hurt Broden and Mrs Zdoni is going to be arguing your case. Mr Miller, the other teacher, and myself are going to be the judge. Good luck Ayla.'

Ayla nodded her head and sat down on the log he indicated.

'We are here today,' Jon said once he had moved to his seat. 'To deem whether Ayla is guilty or not of hitting Broden and leaving him to die. Before we do though, I would like to tell the defence that I sent people back to the area where it all happened. They found no rope that could have tied Ayla up, but did find a house, with signs of recent habitation. But they found no woman, or her body. No one to back up her claims that it wasn't her that hit Broden.'

Ayla saw Mrs Zdoni and some of her friends frown. She also saw Mariana and Broden whispering together.

'I am here today.' Mariana stood up. 'To prove that Ayla, the accused, hit my client Broden. She did it when he was trying to rescue her, help her. For reasons she has not bothered to tell us. She still says that someone else hit him, and that Broden tied her up and was going to hurt her. Today I will prove her guilt.'

'And I am here to prove that Ayla has never shown any signs that she could be capable of such a thing,' Mrs Zdoni added, standing too.

'Sit down old woman,' Mariana sneered. 'You will get your chance later. I call to the stand Tallie.'

A brown haired girl walked forward. She looked nervously at Ayla and then sat down at the front.

'How long have you known the accused?' Mariana asked.

'For just over two years.'

'And in that time have you seen anything that could make you think that she is capable of hurting another?'

'Well, she has always seemed to think she is better than anyone else. Walking around camp as if she owned it. Going off on her own, and trying to be a healer. I've often felt her staring at me, and have felt frightened. Lots of my friends felt that too, both in this camp and other ones. I was scared that one day she was going to hurt me. But she was worse with Broden, she was always watching him, frowning at him. I saw her follow him a couple of times as he left camp...'

'That's not true,' Ayla said.

'The accused will be quiet,' Mr Miller shouted, thumping a stick on the ground.

'I knew that one day she would hurt him. I don't know why.'

'Thank you,' Mariana said, standing again. 'So fellow campers, as you see Ayla has shown herself to be a nasty person in the two years we have lived here. But I would like to hear from someone who knew her growing up. I call to the stand Tommy.'

A boy walked up to the front now, to Ayla he seemed familiar.

'How long have you known the accused?'

'Since I was little, since before the storm. I was in her nursery class and then in her other classes.'

'And how did she treat you?'

'As if I didn't exist. Look at her face now, she doesn't even recognise me.'

Everyone turned to look at Ayla, who just blushed.

'I remember how mean she was the Broden though, always making stuff up about him, trying to get him into trouble. One day he was walking through the cafeteria and slipped on something she'd put on the floor, when his food went up into the air and then down on her head, it wasn't her that got the blame. He got a week's worth of detention for that. And then there was the time we went on a visit to some museum with stupid paintings that all looked like her. He was stood near one and noticed someone had drawn a moustache with a marker. She noticed at the same time, and accused him. Even slipped the marker into his pocket. Being invisible as I was to her, I've seen loads of things happening, she was always doing things and he getting the blame.'

Ayla shook her head.

'The only time she did take notice of me, was one day when she accused Broden and me off putting a girl's plaits in the paint. But it was her.'

Ayla's eyes suddenly lighted up with memory. 'I thought you looked familiar,' she said aloud, despite how Mr Miller was frowning at her. 'You came to our school for one day, just one day. You were from London really, and a trouble maker. You were going to join the school but when you and Broden put that Teresa's plaits in the paint, as well as doing other things, they sent you back. I haven't known you from childhood, only that one day.'

'See, invisible,' Tommy pointed out.

'Quite,' Mariana said. 'Okay, I call to the stand Broden.'

Broden walked to the stand, holding his head, his face white, but it looked more like paint than a pale face.

'You also have known Ayla for a long time.'

'He nodded and then remembered to grimace. 'Since we were little, and what the others have said is true. She is a bully and shouldn't be with normal people.'

'And on the day she hit you?'

'I had a feeling that we should search in the other direction. I was going to tell someone, to get them to come with me, but I couldn't find anyone and was frightened for her. As much as she was horrible to me, I didn't want any harm to come to her. Anyway I found her, but she didn't want to come back, so she hit me. I blacked out then, and was found by the rest of the search party, she soon afterwards. And then she started saying something about me tying her up, which is all rubbish.'

'And did she ever say why she made this story up?'

He shrugged his shoulders.

'You did tie me up. You said you wanted revenge for what had happened to your great great uncle, or something like that. You reckoned that my great great grandmother had accused him of a crime and got him sent to prison.'

'Oh please.'

'But I know the truth. The woman that really hit you, she was called Hope and my great great grandmother was her step mother. She was called Alana, and your great great uncle was called Simon.'

'Oh so you do know what happened,' he said, and then gulped. 'that is, I don't' know what she is on about.'

'Your uncle Simon was in the slave trade, stealing girls from around Europe and then selling them. He kidnapped my great great grandmother and was going to sell her to goodness knows what life.'

'That's rubbish, he wouldn't have done that.'

'But he did, you wanted revenge on me for something that had happened to him, but he got everything he deserved and not enough by my reckoning.'

'Lies,' Broden flew at her and grabbed her by the throat. 'Simon was a good man, I won't let you tell lies about him.'

'He was a bad man,' Ayla managed to say, though her throat was being constricted. The world around her was getting dark, but she could just make out Jon and Mrs Zdoni running towards them.

And then she felt other hands pulling the hands strangling her from her throat and was able to gasp air into her lungs.

'I will get you for this,' Broden screamed. 'And next time I won't tie you to a tree first, I will just stab you. And there won't be an old woman to rescue you.'

Jon forced Broden to the ground where he continued to rant.

'So everything Ayla told us is true, you really did attack her, tie her up.' But he wasn't asking a question, just stating the truth.

'Jon, leave my client alone,' Mariana came running over, trying to push Jon away. 'Don't listen to the lies of that girl.'

Jon stood up, once someone else was guarding Broden. 'But they're not lies Mariana, he admitted to it all.'

'It's lies,' Mariana screamed. 'She attacked Broden. I won't let her get away with it.'

'Well you would say that, I know you have always fancied her. But I'm your girlfriend, not her. I think it is time you choose, me or her.'

'No, it is time you choose, either you are my girlfriend and back me up, or you're not and you back Broden up. Which is it?'

Mariana's face paled. She didn't like being manipulated like that. 'I...' she started to say, but then with sudden determination, she glared at Jon. 'I choose Broden. Always Broden, not you. Not spineless, wouldn't hurt anyone, easily led Jon. Do you know, me and Broden have often laughed at how gullible you are? Yeah, we have. After we've been together, enjoyed each other.'

'What?'

'Don't look so surprised. Did you really think a dullard like you would interest me? Broden and I have been sleeping together for the last two year, and he's a lot better lover than you. You who wouldn't even sleep with me, just little kisses now and then. All because you are religious and think that it is wrong to have sex before marriage. All because you wanted to wait. Pah, I didn't want to, so I got it from somewhere else.' She grinned and arched her eyebrows at him. 'What do you have to say about that?'

Jon just turned his back on her and went to help Ayla.

Jon was just helping Ayla back to her shelter, the one she shared with the other girls of her group, when a man ran through the camp. Older than the teenagers, and young adults that lived on the project and wearing a scientist white coat, it was obvious he had come with news from those that regulated it all.

'Other runners have been sent to the other camps,' he gasped, trying to get his breath. 'We have been sent to warn you that you need to get to safety. The storm, or at least part of it is coming back sooner than thought. It broke off from the main body in deep space but its course has only just been ascertained. It is aiming right at the Earth, and should be here in a couple of days. The scientists don't know for sure, but they reckon that it will be fierce enough to melt glass, even the thick glass that domes our cities and this project. Cities have been told to go into the very lowest of their levels, into the subways and tunnels built underneath. The scientists of the project are going to go into a bunker but it isn't' big enough for all the hundreds of young people in the project. You have to find somewhere safe to shelter before it comes and then hope there is a planet left afterwards.'

Jon stood still with shock. 'Where can we go?'

The man shrugged his shoulders and passed something to him. The normal telephones aren't working for some reason, they reckon it could be magnetic interference from the storm. Wherever you go, after the storm had finished whatever it is going to do, use that walkie talkie to contact us.'

'I know where we can go,' Ayla said. 'There is a cave, near where you found me. A deep one.'

'Yes, a cave should protect you and there are a lot of them around this area,' the scientist said. 'Go to the cave.'

'Okay,' Jon said.

'I've got to go now,' the runner said. 'Got other camps to warn.'

'Of course,' Ayla said. 'Run fast.'

The man nodded and then turned around and starting to sprint out of the camp.

'Where's this cave then?' Jon asked.

Ayla wanted to smile, but after the news they'd just heard, she didn't feel like doing such a thing. 'I will show you.'

They gathered everyone together, and told them what was happening. Many started to cry and others put their arms around them.

'We will be okay,' Ayla told them. 'The cave is really deep. We just need to gather enough supplies to last us for about a week and then we should go.'

'I'm not going to any cave with you,' Mariana said.

'Mariana, the dome is going to fail. You could die.' Jon pointed out.

'I'd rather die than share a cave with stinky Ayla.'

'Yeah me too,' Broden said. 'I'll go with Mariana.'

Jon shrugged his shoulders. 'It's your funeral.'

'Yeah, we'll find a cave, just for me and you,' Mariana said to Broden. 'It can be our little love nest.'

Broden grinned at her.

'Fine,' Jon said, and for the second time that day, turned his back on Mariana.

'You need to take supplies,' Ayla said to them. 'And make sure you find a cave that is deep enough to protect you.'

'We don't need little miss know it all telling us anything,' Mariana said, as she roughly pushed passed Ayla. 'Just get out of my way.'

Ayla shook her head and went to help Jon.

They'd reached the cave in good time, taking with them enough food and water to last for a week, as well as bedding. Jon had also had a couple chemical toilets stored away, in case of emergency that should hopefully see to their other needs during the time they were in there. Ayla had told Jon of the cave's history, and he had decided to use the toilets so as not to spoil what was the home of people who lived long ago.

So now they sat in the cave, in a secondary part of it that was further away from the entrance so they should be safe from the storm. Even so they could hear the crackles of it when it came, and feel its fierce heat. So much so, that they put out their own fire and survived with just a few candles burning light into the cave.

A girl crept closer to Ayla during that time. 'I'm sorry,' she said.

Ayla turned to her, and realised it was Tallie.

'I didn't want to say those things about you. But they threatened me, Mariana and Broden, said they would take me somewhere where no one would ever find me. Torture me.' She shuddered. 'I really am sorry.'

Ayla nodded her head and reached out and took her hand. 'It is okay, I understand,' she said.

The girl hung her head down low. 'Thank you,' she said.

Slowly the heat from the storm faded, and the noise ceased. One day about a week after they'd arrived, and starting to grow short of food and water, Jon decided it was time to see if it really was gone. But Ayla wouldn't let him go on his own, and went too.

Slowly they walked into the front cave, seeing blackened scorched marks on the wall. There was a light coming from outside, through the mangled gate but it wasn't the light of the storm, that by now they knew well, but the light of a sunny day.

Pushing the now cold gate out of the way, they walked out into a sunny day. But the ground was bare. The trees gone, just ashes on the ground, and the dome that had protected them, just a melted shell.

Jon used the walkie talkie then, calling for help, hoping it was available.

'What if everyone else in the world is dead but our little group?' he asked Ayla.

'Hush,' she put her hand on top of his. 'It will be okay.'

He gulped and then nodded his head. 'Hello,' he said in a trembling voice, his thumb on the talk button of the walkie talkie. 'Is anyone out there?'

Static.

'Hello.' Tears were rolling down his face now, and his body was shaking. 'Hello.'

Static and then. 'Hello, who is this?'

Jon sighed as sigh of relief. 'It's Jon from group nine, camp four.'

'Okay, this is Geoff from control. Can you tell me your status?'

'We are all okay. We sheltered in a cave during the storm, one that used to have tours running through it. Laugerie Haute.'

'Laugerie Haute.'

They could hear typing in the background and then the man's voice came back.

'We have your location, we will be sending a retrieval team to you. Hold tight until then and only drink the water you have. The water, if not dried up, from the rivers and streams in your locality could be poisonous now.'

'Okay,' Jon said and turning to Ayla. 'Did you hear that?'

She nodded. 'I just hope they hurry up, before we really run out of water. It will be bad if they don't get here until then.'

The sound of helicopters came later that morning. Landing in the burnt landscape, dust was thrown up, so the group stayed well back until they were down and the blades were still.

Then everyone started running, passed dead plants, scorched trees. Ayla just about saw Hope's home, burnt to ashes, nearby.

And then she got on a helicopter. A man gave her a bottle of water, which she gratefully drank.

'Is everywhere like this?' she asked.

'Pretty much,' he replied. 'Some places got off lightly, mostly those on the lower side of the world but Europe is decimated.'

'What is going to happen?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know.'

They flew over the dead forests that had been their home for over two years. Along the way they'd pick up a lone survivor, but the rest of the groups, if they were still alive, were being rescued by others.

They flew through the melted glass dome, and up towards the sky. But there were no birds up there, and the land down below was black.

'It's all finished,' Ayla sobbed. 'Everything. This is the day that life ended. The end of the world.'

They were taken to a base that was unlike the dome. The glass dome that had protected it was gone, melted like everywhere else, but another dome of thick metal had been built underneath it, and this had survived. The helicopters had come from there, and many of the men and women saving them.

They landed on the burnt ground outside, but taken through a metal door on the ground, through a tunnel and then into a complex. W

When Ayla closed her eyes, she could almost think she was back in Oxford. The smell of metal, plastic and disinfectant were the same, but when she opened them again, she saw men in fatigues running up and down the corridor they were walking down.

They were led to a large room where other young survivors from the project were waiting too. At the front were tables laden with food and drink, and she filled a small plate and filled her stomach.

Sometimes in groups, and other times in ones and twos, the other survivors came in.

And then the doors were closed and a man walked to the front of the room.

'Is this is?' he asked. 'Is there anyone else out in the dome?'

'There might be one or two scattered around,' a soldier said. 'And we have found some dead, burnt to ashes, but in the main, all the young people of the project are here.'

Hearing this, Ayla looked around for Mariana and Broden, but they were not there.

'Okay,' the man said. 'If everyone will listen to me.'

They all turned to listen.

'When the original storm hit our world, it changed everything but when the second storm came, well we were shocked and knew that one day it would destroy the planet. So we made plans, it was decided that all young people between the ages of fourteen and eighteen would be sent to the project. But this you already know. What you don't know, is that was only part one of our plan. This planet is doomed, but you gathered here, along with the children that remained in the cities, are our future. Therefore, we started making ships, ones that would travel space. We located suitable planets that would sustain life and our plan was to send you all, along with the children, to these planets in a few more years. But the storm came earlier than anticipated so our plans have been moved forward. You will stay in your groups, except those who have lost a large proportion of theirs, or even all of them, and you will be put in the ships to travel to these planets. Ten groups per planet which will mean there are around a hundred of you on each, another fifty places will be filled by children, who will then be your responsibility.'

'But what about their mothers?' a girl shouted out.

'Yeah and their fathers?'

They will not be going. No adults will. You all are the future of the human race. The last two years you have been living a hunter and gatherer society which will help you to adapt to your new homes. You young people here, will become the new adults.'

'But...'

'No more, it has been decided and will happen. Now has anyone got any questions?'

Jon put his hand up. 'Who will be the leaders?'

'Ah,' the man smiled. 'The need for leadership already. That is something that will have to be decided amongst yourselves. Anyone else?'

Ayla put her hand up. 'How will we know what is safe to eat?'

'By being careful. Watching what the animals eat, seeing how they react to it. But first of all, you will be taking enough supplies to last a year. And each planet has water, you will just have to boil it to make sure it is safe. Okay, I have much to do, if anyone has any more questions, then you can ask one of the attendants around the room and they will find out what the answer is. But for now, eat.'

They were assigned rooms to stay in until they left for their new homes and Ayla, after finding out Mrs Zdoni's room went to see her.

Standing outside her room, she tried to calm her nerves and then knocked.

'Ayla,' Mrs Zdoni said. And then she saw the look on Ayla's face. 'You know don't you.'

Ayla nodded her head. 'I know everything Zolena,' she said and smiled.

The very old woman sighed and then pulled the door open wider. 'I have waited a long time for this day, but you already know that. Soon I will at last be able to rest.'

'Can't you come with us to the new planet?'

Zolena shook her head. 'The planets are for the young and I am the oldest woman around here. I'm tired Ayla, so tired but you are young and are the future.'

'But...'

'Listen Ayla, you are the future, not any of the other young people out there but you. You will go to your planet, you will be chosen as the leader because it is the will of God, and you will create a perfect society, like the Garden of Eden where you can all walk with your God. And one day, in the future, your work will spread to other planets, both those populated from the descendants of the Earth's young people and alien ones, your people will bring the good news to them and bring hope to whole races. But I am not a part of that, I am staying here, where I have lives my many years. I am too old to leave this planet now.'

'But what about the storm?'

'It will come again, and soon, much sooner than the others think. But that time it will melt everything. Oh the Earth will still be here, and in time will develop another protective barrier like the ozone was, but that won't be for a long long time. One day your descendants might come back to the Earth to populate it, and wouldn't that be a wonderful thing?'

Ayla nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. 'How long do the people of the Earth have?'

'A couple of months, that is all. But by then, you will be gone, off on your adventure, living a life full of promise and hope and I will go where all servants of God go, to heaven. I will be with Ayla again, the first one and her mate Jondalar, and with all the other girls I have protected over the years. Kayla, Icaya, Fenala, Thora, Delania, Anna and so many others.' She smiled. 'I am really looking forward to it.'

'Okay,' Ayla responded and felt herself enveloped in the embrace of the large woman. 'But I will always remember you.'

A few days later found Ayla and the other young people and children loaded onto the space ships and blasted into space. Speeding to the planet that had been chosen for them, one hundred and fifty of them, nervously biting their nails of what they would find when they got there.

And then a man appeared, through the wall as if he had just walked in from space. He smiled at them. 'My children, you are the new beginning. You are my long for hopes.'

'Who are you?' Jon shouted.

The man looked towards the trembling young man. 'Jon, Jon, you have known me all your life, do you not recognise me now?'

'Jesus?'

'It is I my child. I have come to visit you now, for soon when you land on your new planet, my planet, I will be with you there. You will be my people and I will be your Lord.'

'What if we don't want to be your people?' a boy shouted out.

'I will never force anyone to be mine but in time, when you see how good the life is I offer, I hope you will change your mind.'

'I love you,' a girl said.

'And I love you Shelly,' he grinned at her.

'You know my name?'

'I know everyone's names.'

'Oh.'

'I have already prepared the planet you are going to but a decision has to be made about who will be your leader will be.'

A few hands were raised.

'Thank you, but I have already chosen. Ayla.'

'Yes Lord.' She stood up.

'This is your leader, she will lead you in your new life, the way I want you to go. Listen to her, she knows much, more than even she realises yet.'

Ayla stared at Him. 'But...'

'You are my chosen instrument. You are Ayla.'

The End.


End file.
